The Guardians
by The Lord Of The Words
Summary: His search continues for strength, Magnus now searches for a legendary swordsman, said to be "the worlds greatest". Can Magnus's training be enough to defeat someone the world knows as the best?
1. The Origin

The Guardians

**Chapter 1:** The Origin

Magnus stood on the deck with his friends, standing on either side of him, near the railings, looking out into the cresting fields beyond. They had settled their airship on a level piece of ground, and gingerly touched down, the dimensional engines powering down with a groan. Gazing around at the countryside, it was an empty place, standing in a valley; several large rolling hills surrounding them, the site seemed lush and green. Hard to imagine that this would soon become a battleground for all of them, where the conflict they had been waging for the world would be decided. Saving the elements from certain destruction, what cause could be greater?

Below them, stood four figures, to match the four on the deck of the ship. To Magnus's left was their half-elven ranger Vinir, suffering from the curse known as lycanthropey. Nonetheless, he had coped and was already in his hybrid werebear form. Easily eleven spans tall, heavily bulging with muscle and flesh, with the long shaggy brown fur of a great bear. His wet snout was testing the air, and his jagged teeth were protruding from his gums. He stood, his massive body straining against his magical armor, which had been designed to expand with his body as he transformed. His long swords were clenched in his meaty hairy fists, waiting.

To his right was the elven girl, Ferowyn, their quote unquote thief. She was very fair, young as well, with a head of long red hair, like a waterfall of fire, and deep, penetrating black eyes. She was looking down, nervous, being the groups most inexperienced with battle, her hands straying to her hips, where two short swords hung. Yes, she had come a long way, but they were facing their greatest enemies. And she was stroking a leather gauntlet on her right hand, a gift of her beloved, Tahlik, an enchanted bracer he had constructed for her.

Standing in front of them all was their leader, their elven bladesinger, an elven fighter with extensive knowledge of magic. Teriwyn, Ferowyn's older sister. Though they looked rather dissimilar for siblings, Teriwyn having a softer pair of blue eyes, and long brunette hair, soft and fine as silk. Her magical long sword was already in her hand, watching the four down below.

And Magnus, perhaps their most unique member. He was the most recent arrival; Teriwyn, Ferowyn, and Vinir had been companions since the adventure began. They had another man on their journey, but he met with a cruel fate under the Mountains of Fulk, in a so-called abandoned Dwarven city, now infested by duergar. That was where they had met Magnus as well, as he had been slipping around the ruins, using his "gifts" to inspect buildings, to see if any treasure was to be found.

He had used a mystical power to transform himself into a corporal mist, and stuck his head through a wall, only to come face to face with a startled Ferowyn, who was also snooping around for something to steal. Magnus joined their company out of necessity more than anything else, but he too was soon caught up in a battle the proved greater than he. He was the only human of the party, but he wasn't any ordinary man.

It was clear that he was no wizard, for he was garbed in a regular tunic, and studded leather, and he had two finely crafted scimitars at his side. But still, he was able to do seemingly magical things without any casting. He was, as they eventually found out, a psionicist, one who utilized the power of their mind to perform incredible feats. He was the tallest of the group, eight spans tall, except when Vinir did his werebear change.

He was handsome in an almost sinister sort of way, with long slick black hair, reaching his shoulders, and eyes that were often mistaken for black, but really brown. Right now, he didn't look exactly like that, standing with his friends, in that valley observing their foes. His skin, normally pale, had grown gray with hints of green, and the texture was scaly; his face extended, and was now sporting a snout like a reptile. He, using a power of the psionicist, began to take traits of his inner animal, the lizard.

He hadn't planned on joining these elves on their quest, but soon found himself in their group, following them through many perils, such as fighting a horde of fire giants and their iron golems. Also finding themselves banished to another dimension, only to purchase a githzerai airship, and return to the Prime material plane. Then, to face off against a great wyrm red dragon, who was the keeper of a certain artifact that they were searching for.

The whole quest had to do with elements, the four lesser elements, Lightning, Ice, Magma, and Steam, had wished to overthrow their more powerful parents, Fire, Earth, Water, and Air. In doing so, they had dispatched an avatar of themselves, warriors looking like evil samurai, to meddle on the Prime material and accomplish this. In order to do so, four elemental artifacts were needed to perform this process. Teriwyn already had one artifact when he met them, a magical bracer of Air. They were searching for scattered pieces of a blade of Fire, a shield of Water, and an armor of Earth.

They had been successful in hunting them all down, save the armor. It had vanished, with no signs as to where it was. Ferowyn had taken the shield, and while she did not use it, so long as it was strapped to her back, she gained its enchanting abilities. Magnus was given the sword of Fire, the weapon polymorphing itself into his blade of choice, the scimitar. As they were resting themselves after gathering the last pieces of the shield, a letter for their group came. There was no signature, but the content was familiar and the origin, unmistakable.

"_We have the armor in our possession. There will be one final battle; the winner decided the fate of this world. All artifacts will be placed in the hands of those who are victorious. We are waiting."_ It went on to give an exact time and place for this final battle.

The samurai had been clever, letting Teriwyn's group do all the work, hunting down the artifacts, and the Avatars would simply slay them to finish their mission. None of the group were going to let that happen. So, after they had prepared themselves as best they could, they boarded their airship, and made their way across the world. They had arrived at the meeting spot described in the letter. They were here to finish things. Their enemies were waiting. They would fight. And the outcome would decide the fate of many.

Finally after a moment, Teriwyn glanced behind at her friends. Without a word, she nodded, and leapt over the railing. Vinir, who was secretly in love with Teriwyn followed after her, growling as he vaulted over the rails. Ferowyn took in a deep breath and nimbly hopped over the side. Magnus stood for a moment more, and casually, almost leisurely walked to the rail, stepped up onto it and then stepped off, only to hover in the air, with the power of levitation. Then he began to descend, and gently lowered to the ground, and joined the others. The four of them formed a line, and gazed back at their four enemies.

First, was their old friend, the Lightning samurai, who had fought them back when they had been less experienced. Magnus hadn't been present for that encounter, but had heard that this creature was wickedly fast and savage, its speed being hard to combat. It was still wearing the same golden samurai armor, with buzzing and crackling azure skin.

Then another old acquaintance, the Magma samurai, in its scarlet blood armor. Its skin being too hot to touch, it had ambushed the group just as they returned to the prime. Though they had grown stronger, this fiend had beaten the group, one by one, Teriwyn, Vinir, and Ferowyn. But Magnus, having unlocked some of his own abilities during a near-death experience, used his psionics to draw out his inner potential, and faced off with this foe, one on one. He soon took the upper hand and proceeded to hammer the avatar into submission, causing the beast retreat in defeat.

The others were Steam, letting off burning hot vapors, in an almost translucent set of armor. And Ice, their leader wearing the magical Earthen armor. Each wielded a long deadly sharp katana, Ice and Lightning each had two; Magma and Steam only had one. In their minds, the group took their own samurai that they would face. Teriwyn chose Ice, being leader vs. leader. Vinir wanted Magma, ready to pay it back for the last encounter. Ferowyn wanted Lightning, as she now had enchanted blades that made her faster than ever. Magnus took Steam, being all that was left.

Facing one another, all was silent. Neither party spoke, but they were poised, weapons out, ready to begin. Eager to end this.

"You will not walk away from this," Teriwyn told them quietly, breaking the silence. She then whirled her sword around, and waited. Ice let out a grinding laugh.

"You're right. You won't."

Those words began it, and yet, only two saw it happen. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and a boom of thunder all around them. Lightning had vanished in a blaze, but then…so had Ferowyn. They were both moving at unreal speeds, clashing with one another, their movements unobservable. There was only the ringing of steel from their unseen struggle which echoed around them all. With a roar of rage, Vinir in all of his werebear anger charged Magma, brandishing his swords. Magnus silently began to run towards Steam, which braced for his swift assault, and Teriwyn moved in and began exchanging blows with Ice.

Steam fell first. Magnus's enhanced powers and twin swords were more than it could handle, and after a few attempts to block the psionicist fierce and yet calculated attacks, one arm severed in a blistering cloud of steam. Then, its midsection was sliced open, sending out another billowing column. And finally, its head was removed. The body stood for a moment more, and then with a strange surge of power, the body exploded outward in a huge gust of boiling hot wind, enough to fry a mans skin. Magnus held up his blade of Fire and using it as a conductor, it absorbed all of the stinging heat.

With Steam vanquished, Magnus looked around. Ferowyn was still nowhere to be seen, neither was Lightning, but he could still hear their raging battle. Both Vinir and Teriwyn were not faring so well. Vinir was badly wounded, despite his werebear form's ability to absorb damage; he was bleeding heavily from several deep lacerations, while Magma still looked relatively unharmed. Teriwyn was an excellent fighter as well, but Ice was better, and with its two swords, it was gradually wearing her down.

Magnus wasn't sure which to help, and finally resolved to head for Vinir, trusting his leader's skills. Then the situation changed. Vinir, in a thundering bellow, and in a impressive move, got around Magma's sword, and with a single slice, sheared off Magma's head. It stood there, quivering for a moment, but Magnus knew it was about to explode in a fountain of lava, which Vinir could never survive.

He moved quickly, and using a surge of telekinetic force, knocked Vinir aside, yelling, "Aid Teriwyn. Now!" And suddenly, Magma blew like a volcano, covering Magnus in a wave of lava that would kill any mortal. Vinir couldn't believe the sacrifice his friend had made, watching him be swallowed up by the liquid fire. But behind, things were getting bad. Teriwyn couldn't hold anymore, and Ice was able to get a stab in, right through the bladesinger's midsection, causing her to fall to the ground with a cry.

Seeing his beloved being slain, Vinir in an understandable rage stampeded Ice with an infuriated roar, catching the evil spirit off guard. Using his massive body, he broadsided it, sending it flying. Vinir fell to the ground, dropping his swords, checking on Teriwyn. She was alive, but just barely. Vinir clasped his huge hairy hands together, evoking elven magic to heal her wound.

Unfortunately Ice, not being able to feel pain, stood up the moment it touched ground, and came charging back on the run. Vinir saw it coming, but there wasn't anything he could do. He was locked in the spell, if he broke it, the magic would dissipate, and Teriwyn would die. He couldn't live with that, planning on healing her at all costs. So, he continued with the ceremony. And as the whistling blade of Ice descended upon his head, Vinir clenched his eyes shut, hoping the magic would work in time. But the blade never struck him. They instead struck steel.

There standing over Vinir, both swords up, holding the attack at bay was Magnus, his skin steaming and burnt and his hair singed, but alive.

"You want them," said he, glaring the sub-elemental spirit in the eyes, "Then you come through me first."

Having no problem with that, Ice began to attack Magnus, and thus the fight went on. Both had two swords, so Magnus was able to hold Ice off long enough for Vinir to finish his task. Teriwyn's eyes fluttered open, and she sat up with a groan.

Vinir, seeing her awake, but knowing this wasn't the time to embrace, quickly snatched up his swords, and leapt up. Teriwyn also saw Magnus battling Ice, and swept up her sword, and both werebear and bladesinger stepped up to join the pressed psionicist, and the three of them encircled Ice. It didn't take long after that for the lone samurai to succumb to the incredible power of all those swords, and in an arctic blast of air and chunks of hail, Ice was no more.

Then, there was a huge flare of brilliance as well as an enormous thunderclap, and knocked back into sight almost from nowhere, was Ferowyn, looking a little crispy herself. She stood for a moment, then sat down heavily. She was sweating and smoking, but she was grinning.

"Lightning?" Magnus asked her, to which she pointed. All that remained of the evil samurai was a large charred spot on the ground, as well as his empty golden armor.

"Then…it's over," Teriwyn said aloud, the unmistakable note of relief in her voice.

"Not quiet," Vinir countered, in his growling bear voice, "We must destroy the artifacts, so this may never be attempted again."

They agreed. Re-boarding their airship, the four went to a primary elemental temple, where they placed each artifact upon a smoldering anvil, and it was destroyed. But something peculiar happened as each hammer stroke fell upon each artifact.

When the Earthen armor, taken from Ice, exploded in a cloud of dust and dirt, Vinir vanished from sight. As the bracer of Air went in a wave of wind, so went Teriwyn. When the shield of Water burst in a flood of liquid, Ferowyn was gone. And as the sword of Fire blasted into a column of fire, Magnus faded along with it. To where? Where indeed...


	2. Offer of the Gods

**Chapter 2:** Offer of the Gods

Magnus's vision soon returned, and after shaking his head, he began glance around. He was…in Hell, by the looks of things. And as was his passive nature, he didn't seem too concerned. There was much fire around him, the sky streaked with red, the heat in the air being almost stifling, peppered with ash. He also saw that he was alone, of the others; there was no sign.

Alone on a hilltop of black ash, looking over a raging sea of fire, Magnus stood all by himself, wondering what had happened. Had his and the others actions _not_ saved the world? Had they done something wrong to deserve to be sent to Hell? Had he…done something wrong himself, as the others were absent. He did not know.

_"No,"_ came a resonating and rumbling voice, _"You have done quite well if anything, and you are not in the Abyss. One such as you has no business in a place like that. But you do have business here."_ It was a commanding voice, filled with omnipotence and authority. Magnus strangely enough was not at all surprised to hear such a voice, to speak without warning, or to having seemingly no origin.

As after casually glancing around, he could see no one in the immediate vicinity. There actually were now that he looked a bit closer, creatures on this land, dark winged silhouettes soaring high in the crimson smog, and immense giants of flame, streaking across the scorched earth below him. But he was quite sure that none of these where what had spoken.

"And who are you?" he asked aloud, his tone unchanged, sounding perfectly fine with the situation, "That summons me to such a place, and then speaks to me from nowhere and everywhere? You _are_ the one who brought me here. Am I right?"

This was followed by a booming laugh, as whoever had been speaking obviously found this funny. With a whirl of blistering heat, and a roaring column of fire right in front of Magnus, erupting out of the black ground itself, was a being made of fire, having a vague demi-human shape, two legs, two arms, and a head. Then, it stepped out of the fire surrounding it. It was…a man.

A normal man by the looks. _Almost_ at least. He was perhaps nine spans tall, far taller than Magnus, with a strong chiseled body, a rippling broad bare chest, great thick arms, and fluid features. His hair at first glance seemed to be a blazing red or orange, but then it became quite clear that his hair was fire itself, flickering flames, rising and waving in the heated wind. His eyes were nothing but two sockets filled with a smoldering light, like he had a fire burning inside his head. He was dressed in naught but black pants, perhaps to symbolize the charred landscape around him.

An interesting thing was the armor he wore. It looked like plate mail armor, but made out of black glass. Obsidian. Furthermore, it had red cracks running along it, reminding Magnus of a volcano. The dark stones, and then the splits, the molten rock boiling up. This figure gazed at him for a moment, then took a step forward. As his foot touched the ground, it burned, and sent a cloud of steam boiling up. This man stood for a moment, and then, began to speak.

_"I trust,"_ he said to him, with the same voice as before, just not quite as mighty and overpowering, _"That you are alright if you speak to a form that you can relate with? Normally, I would not take so lowly an appearance, but I did not wish to overwhelm you. But I suppose…even I can make exceptions."_ Magnus took a step up himself, crossing his arms.

"On _my_ account? I'm flattered. But perhaps you could tell me exactly who you are, and why you thought it to be necessary to bring me to this…place. And where are the others? Are they here too?" The being shook his head.

"_No. They are not. But I will wager that they are in a similar place, talking to similar beings. Come now Magnus, you are a smart fellow. I would think that you of all people should know where you are, and who I am. If you are truly not in the Abyss, then where does that leave?" _Magnus once more glanced at his surroundings, and then back to this stranger, who was apparently waiting for an answer. He shrugged.

"I suppose," he answered, in an almost bored like way, "if this isn't Hell, and considering what we had just gone through, than I suppose that this is either a dimensional pocket of Fire, or actually the infamous Elemental Plane of Fire. What with me wielding the sword of Fire, that made me the one you're interested in."

Pleased by his words, and pleased that he had chosen so very well, the man leaned forward and in a crooning voice asked, _"And who would that make me?" _He parted his teeth in a grin, unveiling a set of flawless teeth.

"The elemental god of fire, Zigar. And forgive me for saying so, but you are a bit…unimposing. But then, as you said, you're keeping your power restrained for my sake, as to insure my physical form doesn't fry at you're fiery presence." This…man, or god, flashed another fervent grin.

"_You know much, Magnus, warrior of flame. That is precisely why I summoned you to me now. To grant you immense power."_ Even after hearing of this promise, Magnus didn't seem too impressed, and didn't even ask about it.

"So the others I take it have been transported to their respective planes, and talking with the elemental god that they are most affiliated with?" Zigar gave him a shrug and a nod.

_"I suppose, but then, your group isn't the issue here. But as separate individuals, you hold vast significance. You see, you and your group have done exceptionally well, fending off the plots of the Demi-Elements, gathering the artifacts, and utilizing their powers to defeat them. You have kept the elements in their proper place, and sustained the world a little longer. For this, and other accomplishments you are now here, where I shall offer you something…something that I imagine most mortals' dream of."_

Magnus had heard of what he had said beforehand, but not wanting to appear eager, for as it was, he really wasn't, only nodded slightly, and gazed around.

"Indeed?" he asked casually, tapping his fingers on one of the pommels of his swords. "Great power you say? Just because of dealing a decisive blow to the sub-elements. And what? Saving the world? It's logical that for such a benevolent and charitable act, we'd be rewarded certainly. However, I wasn't aware that mere mortals are granted "great power" by doing such. If that were the case, then why are there not more beings on the Prime material with such abilities? Surely there have been others who have done the same as us, if not more." Zigar shrugged his shoulder.

_"Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps they were too reckless with it, and ended up destroying themselves. You mortals are indeed an incautious lot. But regardless, I know not, and more importantly I care not. They are not significant. What is significant is I, or rather we, the Elementals, which have governed the Prime material for so very long, feel that there are far too many conspiring forces against us, trying to construct schemes to wipe out the primary elements for whatever reason. We therefore agreed that we need someone with considerable power to fight them upon our behalf on the Prime. We have watched your struggle against the Demi-Elements, and you have prevailed with great success."_

_"Being as strong as you are, we decided that we must have these warriors now. If we were to wait much longer, we may be wiped out. Unfortunately as gods, we are not allowed to intervene on the Prime directly. Otho is rather austere about that, thus we ourselves can do little more than observe. But if we were to empower mortals with elemental abilities and powers, as a form of indirect intervention, you could maintain order in the world, acting as our hands. What say you on this?"_

There was no answer for sometime, as Magnus was thinking hard on this. This was all very sudden, yes, but there were a small number of things he wanted to know before accepting this awfully generous proposal.

"A few things I'm wondering," he said, turning to reface the _god_, "First…why me? I have little doubt that there are other warriors out there, greater servants of Fire, members of your following that would probably literally bite and claw to obtain what you are offering. I only now have aided you, but not in the name of the elements, but in all. What makes me so special?" Zigar gave him a smile, flashing those straight white teeth.

"_You are answering you own question, Magnus. You are naturally intelligent, curious and cautious. Most of the servants that you speak of are far too rash; thinking my will must be done with no hesitation or planning. Some see fire as Chaotic, random and unpredictable, while others see it as Lawful, following the certain principles of the world. Tell me, what do you see Fire as?"_ Magnus thought upon this interesting question for a moment. His answer soon followed.

"I believe Fire is Fire. One must decide on their own what order it alignment it falls under. But you avoid my questions. Yes, I am smart, but no smarter than some wizards and warriors out there. So once again I ask you…why me?" The god avatar stepped forward, and laid a hand over his shoulders.

_"It is because of your intelligence. Your perception of things is greatly fascinating, but yes, you are right, that is not the only reason. To put it simply, your abilities are one of the factors. You are a psionicist, one who wields a very great power, utilizing the hidden strength that most mortals do not have access to."_

_"I believe that a Demi God should be not only strong of body, but mind, and not merely in the ways of intelligence. All these aspects are present in you, an able bodied warrior, with a firm set of morals, a sharp and keen wit, and lastly, a power that few possess. With such perception, you could become aware of conspiring scenario very early on, and eliminate it before it truly begins. The only thing you need in order to become a being of great ability, skill, and power, is your consent. Accept, and you shall have it. Decline, and you will continue you life as you see fit."_ Of course Magnus heard all of this, but there was only one thing that he had heard that now intrigued him.

"Demi God you say? Do you speak of me, or is this some colossal joke?" Zigar once more shook his head.

"_I am being completely serious and honest with you. Should you accept this charge, you will be infused with my essence, becoming a living avatar one might say. Immortal of age. Not wholly indestructible though, but much more durable than a fleshy human. But then, you would be given great access to the strengths of Fire, enhancing your physical body. Not only that, but you will be given admittance in the Halls of Alaronus, where all the most powerful of weapons and arcane arts of Flame will be bestowed upon you." _

"_All I ask of in return is for you to remain vigilant. We would not keep you tied to one spot, you would return to the Prime, and go on with your life as see fit, using these powers to whatever end suits you. However, should a new threat arise, it will fall to you to combat it, it will be your responsibility to fight it and defeat it. For if you don't, and the elements are destroyed, their servants go with them. Do you understand?"_ Magnus listened to all of this, sorting it through his mind.

"I fail to have the right words I suppose. You are offering me a sort of immortality, to live for as long as I wish, fused with magical energies of the eternal flame, and to use these powers whatever way I want. That's an awful lot of power to give to one man. And to give me accessibility to the weapons of the heavens, that would increase my strength tenfold. I understand the reason behind it, but I still must ask…is it not a bit reckless to give a single man such power? What if I should become corrupted?" The avatar said nothing in response to this at first, and only cast a hand to the world around them, the burning charred plane.

"_A fate similar to this,"_ was all he said in return. Magnus pretty much figured that, but now he was certain. He stood thinking, even though deep down, he knew what the outcome of his answer would be. It wasn't the whole promise of power that was so very enticing, nor was it the immortality, to live longer than he rightly should. It was…something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. A feeling if you will. That he…_needed_ to do this, that there was something to do with this granted strength beyond what he was to be appointed with. And as a psionicist, he knew better than to disregard these feelings.

"Very well," said he, standing up to his full size, and clenching his fists at his side, striking a mighty pose. "I accept this duty. I will become a servant of Flame." Zigar gave him another smile.

"_Nothing,"_ he told him, _"Could make me happier."_


	3. The Halls of Alaronus

**Chapter 3: **The Halls of Alaronus

_"Now,"_ the god avatar boomed, after Magnus had accepted his offer, _"there is much to be done. First, your strength must be enhanced and all of you other abilities as well. Come."_ With that, he turned and strangely enough, lifted off the ground, and began soaring through the air. Magnus watched as he left, standing upon the ground, arms crossed, and tapping his foot. After a few moments, the avatar returned.

_"My apologies," Zigar told him with a chuckle, "I sometimes forget that your transient people do not have the gift of flight. Very well, we will do this the easy way I suppose."_ With that, he reached out a hand, offering it. Magnus knew what was coming, so with no hesitation, took hold of his hand and waited. Just as he had surmised, almost instantly there was a flash, a blaze of light, accompanied by an audible crack.

When he was able to see again, the light having subsided, Magnus could see that he was within a huge building. The air around was still hot and dry, almost to an unbearable level. Except he didn't feel that. To him, it felt no worse than a sunny day. The room in which he stood hardly could be called a room. It was an assembly area, a hall, an imposing and immense chamber, filled with an unearthly scarlet glow about everything.

Massive pillars lined the walls, stretching upward, vanishing into a reddish haze. From further down the colossal hall, there were numerous sounds, all of which were familiar. The sounds of a crowd of people talking, working, the constant clang of metal striking metal, most likely hammers hitting an anvil, as this place was a site of magical weapon construction. The clanking of chains, the hissing of steam, all the familiar sounds of a busy and great forge, working at full capacity.

Magnus stared around, his face not betraying his interest. His expression was more difficult to read than a stone's, but he was actually greatly fascinated by this place. The Halls of Alaronus were; after all, the famous forge of the gods themselves, if one is to believe legends and stories.

But the fact that he was standing in the sacred, and not to mention scorching halls themselves, was proof enough that the stories had all been correct, that the place where the greatest and most devastating weapons ever conceived was indeed real. To come face to face with what had previously been considered folklore and mere tales, it leaves one rather stunned, even a man as disciplined as Magnus. Although…he never showed it. He was far too unfeeling to display emotions like that.

"_Stunning isn't it,"_ the physical shell of the Fire God asked, gazing around himself, _"Constructed before we gods were ever created, the original home of Otho, the Domestic Overseer of all Creation. Now converted into the ultimate forge, as well as a temporary bastion for myself, where the mightiest of smiths craft unimaginable power within weapons and armor. But for you, obtaining such weapons is secondary. First, you must be awarded the power that I have promised you. There is an alter at the other end of this place. Once you've mounted the dais, there will be a ritual, and once it is concluded, you shall emerge from this place as a demi-god. Following this, I shall allow you to become accustom to your newfound abilities. And from there you may go about securing your equipment. Come, let us go."_

Without even waiting for an answer, Zigar began to stride right down the center of the hall. Not one to leave someone waiting, Magnus fell in step behind him, still surveying the entire layout of the place. The two of them passed by many open doors while proceeding to the rear of the building, giving Magnus a view of some most peculiar sights.

In one chamber, there appeared to be a great revelry going on, huge burly men with long beards, sitting at a massive table, eating, drinking, talking loudly, and laughing heartily. They looked to be having a grand old time.

In another room, there were numerous hooded beings, sitting at tables. All around the room were bookshelves, housing a vast quantity of books and tomes. If the hooded people had been saying anything to one another, engaged in deep conversation, then their voices would have surely been drowned out by the rowdy lot in the previous room.

Then, something one would expect to see in a blacksmiths establishment, a room full of hammers, anvils, a great roaring forge. As well as a large heavy set man, with a stream of greasy coal black hair, pounding away with a silver hammer, repeatedly striking a long piece of scorching hot metal, sending sparks flying with each hit. There were other things as well, each on interesting in its own way.

Besides, Magnus was mostly preoccupied with what lay at the opposite end of the hall. The dais where this ritual would be done. Despite his previous non-interest, he had a spark of curiosity now; the promise of great power over fire, and access to weapons of unparalleled strength sort of tickled his fancy.

The thought of being immortal too, stirred his inquisitive nature, as without having a constraint of time on his own existence, he could be free to spend years and years to greatly focus on his psionic abilities, and begin the arduous task of harnessing the true power of the mind. The results of such demanding training would be reward enough, compensation for the long period of stressful concentration, and quiet hours of deep meditation.

After a bit of walking, traversing through the main chamber, Zigar motioned Magnus through a set of large iron doors, inscribed with myriad symbols, some of which he could read, others he could not, and others still that he couldn't even guess. Inside was yet another cavernous room, with similar pillars stretching upward towards the ceiling. However, in the center of this room, there was indeed a dais, made of black obsidian rock, constructed in a circle, columns set around the outskirts.

Raging in the center of the alter was an inferno, a towering dancing fire, the core of which was glowing brighter than any normal flame. Standing just on the outskirts of the black circle were more hooded figures, their hands out in front of them, holding their palms out to the massive fire, standing motionless. As Zigar entered, they all turned to face him, and bowed low, as a sign of respect. The avatar waved a dismissing hand, and stepped to the side, gesturing behind, at Magnus, who was only standing there silently, watching.

From beneath the hoods, there were gleaming eyes, as they studied the man carefully. Then, they stepped away from the fire, parting the way. Zigar swiveled his head around, staring back at Magnus.

_"Proceed into the fire."_

Now, when one is asked to step _near_ to a fire, they are normally squeamish, but to be asked to step _into_ it…they would flat out tell you no way. But Magnus wasn't afraid. He had already determined that everything that was happening here was not fake, and while he still didn't really understand as to why he had been chosen for this duty, he knew that he was going to be granted power. And in order to obtain the power over Fire, he would need to step into fire. That made enough sense.

So, without even asking for an explanation, without even hesitating, Magnus casually strolled into the chamber, passing several of the monk-like guys, noticing how very short all of them were close up, and stepped up the dais. He could feel the overwhelming and absolutely unbearable heat from back where he was, but up close, it was staggering. Nonetheless, moving swiftly, he passed through the fire. There was pain, very much. Almost white hot agony, but Magnus wasn't one to shrink away from pain. He had suffered through Drow torture, something that is more horrific than death itself, so he only moved onward.

The disturbing thing was, the fire wasn't quite as hot as one would imagine. From its size and intensity, it wouldn't have been surprising had it incinerated anything that got close to it. Magnus, a man of flesh and blood and bones walked right into it, and wasn't consumed to ash in seconds. And even as the pain washed over him, his body wasn't actually sustaining any physical damage. It was all within his mind, seizing his brain in a strangle hold of anguish.

Magnus walked right to the center of the alter, for as he entered the fire, he could see, even past the intense brilliance about him, there on the black obsidian floor, a single rune was shimmering. A glyph he was familiar with. It was the simple symbol for the element of Fire. It seemed logical enough to him, that stepping into the fire was not sufficient, and he had to make his way to the emblem. This was impressive indeed that he could logically think even while he was trudging though an everlasting fire, burning him to his very soul.

Each continuing step sent another wave of grueling torture through his body, but he was persistent, and far too stubborn to submit to either bodily or mental harm. He kept walking, little by little, and finally, he stepped onto the shining mark. At once, there was an almost explosive-like reaction. There was a blast of intense light, pouring out of nowhere, engulfing the entire Hall of Alaronus in its blistering glare. This was accompanied by a howling whine of…something. Energy perhaps, or maybe just raw power. The octave of the sound kept rising, growing higher and higher, until it was a deafening unearthly shriek, ripping throughout everyone's mind like a rampaging banshee.

Every single person in the hall, the monks; the boisterous partiers in the room a ways back, the smiths, everyone, with the exception of the God of Fire himself, cringed and covered their ears in a vain attempt to block out the horrendous noise. And finally, there was a boom, an explosion that sent a concussion blast of air hotter than fire ripping throughout the massive structure. And that roaring boom was far more forceful than a mere a wave of thunder. The intensity of it sent all items throughout the hall flying in a scattered frenzy. Then…all was silent.

Zigar stood watching, to him, everything had been as clear as the light of day. He knew he had chosen wisely. Magnus hadn't shown any fear in following the order to enter the Flame of Eternity. Didn't even hesitate. Not only that, but to hold all the unbearable pain in, not succumbing to such torture and begging to escape. And finally, he figured it out himself that his goal wasn't just to enter the fire, but to stand upon the Holy Glyph, a symbol that houses a bit of the God of Fire's essence. By stepping onto it, Magnus was now fused with the power of fire for all time. Clearly evident now.

For, as the light faded, and visuals were reestablished, it was apparent there was a change. The fire was still burning as strongly as before, but the figure inside was no longer hunched over, a clear sign of being strained. No, it was standing straight, and even though it was nothing but a shadow, there was an air of power about it, dark eyes staring out. With a confident stride, Magnus emerged, his body still intact, his flesh unblemished, not eve looking warm, but his clothes and all of his personal items had been melted away. He was still radiating dark smoke from where they had burned off of his skin.

As he had stepped upon the mark, Magnus felt the pain within him vanish, as in a puff of a cloud of feathers. He now only felt soothing relief, as if he had emerged from the fire and jumped straightaway into a heap of snow. Even more, he could tell he was changing. His body was tingling, above the skin and below. His muscles felt like they were straining, expanding causing his build to grow even more sturdy. His senses felt sharpened, he perceive far more that the fire around him. He could now see the core of the fire itself, down to the very nothingness from whence it had come, and he could hear sounds beyond the roar of the blaze, the resonance of the air getting heated, and gently popping under the pressure.

Furthermore, he felt a prickling sensation run across his skin, with a hint of warmth to it. Looking down, he was none too surprised to see his skin was beginning to grow red, gaining a lustrous scarlet tint to it. For a moment, he was completely crimson, a man with skin as red as blood. But this soon faded, giving way to his previously pale skin. When all these new sensations ceased, when no more of these waves of peculiar new feelings swept through him, and he felt whole again, he figured what had needed to be done had been done, and he now no longer needed to be standing in the fire.

Speaking of which, the fire didn't bother him in the slightest anymore. It may as well not have been there. There was no pain, no heat, and no interference with his vision. As far as he could see, he was completely immune to the fire.

As he emerged, Zigar gave his hands a slow clap.

_"Now I think you may understand better as to why I chose you for this. Many before you had attempted this ritual, but they succumbed to the worldly aspect of pain. You are the first to pass, the first worthy of the power over fire. I am pleased greatly to see that you are as strong as I had hoped. Greeting to you Magnus…Demi-God of Fire."_

And indeed he was. Leaving the fire behind, Magnus now had a sort of gleaming aura about him, a gentle smoldering glow, radiating off his skin like embers.

"_Now, before we get ahead of ourselves, you will need to get dressed in a proper attire. Follow." _Magnus didn't move.

"I wish you would have told me that my personal affects would have been destroyed. I've just lost something very important to me." Zigar turned away, shrugging.

"_Such is life. For great power, sacrifices must be made. Come, there is much to do."_ The avatar started off, and despite his loss, Magnus followed. He was led once more through the halls, down to a smaller corridor. As they walked, there was a unnerving silence, as all of those inside the Halls were now watching, getting a glimpse of the one who had finally been appointed the Demi-God, the second in command to the big boss himself.

The room he was led to was full of armor and weapons, hanging from the walls, each letting off their own magical aura. Zigar pointed to a steel bench further down. Folded up, already waiting, was a bundle of black clothes.

"_I had these prepared a while back. I trust their style and color suits you?" _Checking them out, it was no surprise that they were indeed his style. Plain and simple, and in his favorite color. A basic black tunic, a black set of pants, black boots, and a belt, with a small silver buckle. And underneath all of these there was a small bundle wrapped up in a piece of blue silk. Inside, was a silver medallion, with small, almost clumsy engravings on it. Magnus's necklace. What he thought he had lost…

"_I figured if you could keep something, it would be that. So, I took the liberty of saving it. You are welcome."_ Magnus didn't bother answering, and merely unclasped the silver chain, slid it around his neck, before refastening it, back into its proper place.

_"Now that you are dressed, I have no doubt that you want to test your newfound abilities. I shall take you to the training grounds." _


	4. Train By Fire

**Chapter 4:** Train by Fire

_"You will no doubt find that you have gone through several changes inside as well as out,"_ the god avatar was explaining to his new Demi-God, who was casually strolling along behind. _"Enhanced physical strength, improved mental alacrity, perhaps even a few…hah ha …well, human appendage enhancements as well?"_ Zigar glanced back. Magnus was as still as stone, his face unmoving, as uncrackable as the foundation of the world.

_"And hopefully, especially in your case, you were also gifted with a better sense of humor as well."_

"Not really my strong point," Magnus informed him, almost ridiculously nonchalant about these whole proceedings.

_"Really? I would have never imagined. Ah, here we are." _They now stood at the entrance of what Zigar had called the training grounds. It was outside, more or less, in the extreme barrenness and heat of the Plane of Fire itself. Of course any normal person that stepped foot on this place without some manner of protection would have been destroyed at once. But there were many creatures that had fire written into its very being, and thus were able to survive. Dragons for an example, fire elementals, lava monsters, and all in between.

Magnus even before he had ascended had the ability to survive on such a harsh environment with no trouble, thanks to his psionics. Having unbearable temperature, no air, immense pressure, it didn't matter. Now though, he didn't even need that power, he felt totally at ease. The landscape was simple, charred ground, scorched rocks, crimson sky, and a few mounds of black gravel that would occasionally erupt with lava in a somewhat violent fashion. A hostile land where few would readily venture.

_"Now then,"_ the god announced, _"I shall go over the most basic of things, and let you have a run with them. Remember though, as of right now, you are still a fledging, in the terms of your abilities. Meaning, your power and strengths are at a minimum right now. The key to unleashing your great potential wasn't bestowed upon you in that ritual. You were given gifts, yes, but the majority of what you will eventually have will be gained through toil and effort. That is what will make you strong." _

"_You will work on these things on ce you return to the Prime, and train yourself. Using your everlasting lifespan to practice, learn, and experiment, you will achieve strength of your own variation. That's the fun of it. If you are as wise as I seem to believe you are, you should find plenty of ways to combine your unique gifts with your newfound abilities. Do you follow?"_

"I do."

_"Very good, then let's begin. First physically, your overall performance is increased easily over one hundred fold. This includes raw strength, as while your body isn't any different, do not let it fool you. You are now as strong as nearly any creature. With this increase, you should be able to break down stone walls with your fists, lift enormous amounts of weight, and in combat, either hand to hand or with a weapon, you will be able to slice and pound just about everything in your path. Even with a standard sword. Many of the fiercest of enemies can be defeated with ease."_

"_Next…your flexibility. You were somewhat clumsy before, if you recall. Falling off that ledge in the dragon's volcano? If not for your ability to levitate or teleport, you would have been burned to ash. Now however, you needn't suffer that embarrassment again. Climbing, fancy footwork, and even handsprings, if that strikes your fancy, should be easier now." _

"_Your body has also hardened too. When struck, you shall absorb a good portion of the damage, leaving fewer marks. Not to mention being much more resistant to damage itself, both the physical and magical variety. And any damage that you do receive will be healed in a timely fashion, as you've also been given a small gift of regeneration. This doesn't mean you can be reckless, but you are far more difficult to kill. I would also think that your stamina and endurance have risen too."_

_"Mentally, an important aspect as you will no doubt agree, your mind has been broadened substantially. The ability to grasp more complex concepts is at your disposal. In relative terms, you could easily be called a genius. I have no doubts that you will put this to excellent use back on the Prime, with either you usual day to day life, or more likely, to increase the output of your psionic gifts. Which proves to me that you are quite a dedicated man. The more I'm talking about you, the more I'm feeling like I made the best choice with you." _

"_Finally, as well as being smarter and wiser, I've taken the liberty of altering your appearance a bit. Of course, if you don't like what I've done, you can very easily change it to your own liking. I'll find you a mirror once you're done out here. Though I think you'll find that you will have become rather irresistible once you return."_ Magnus turned to the god, his eyebrow raising. Zigar grinned back, a knowing expression on his face.

_"Moving on. Those are your bodily changes, but I've also given you a few things more. You are completely resistant to fire, normal and magical. Heat as well, high temperatures and even low temperatures will not bother you anymore. You have access to a few fire abilities; launching blasts of flame and covering yourself in fire, things of that nature. I'll leave it to you on how you wish to shape them." _

"_Lastly, you are immune to all forms of natural diseases, so you needn't worry about plagues or other lowly illnesses. This is by no means all you are capable of, but as I've already explained, you will unlock the rest in time. Now, with that synopsis out of the way, I'll leave you to it. I recommend you practice out here, and get accustom to your body first. Then we can try you abilities in combat. I'll summon something for you to fight and see what you can do. But later. For now, get comfortable with the new you." _Zigar turned away; somewhat anxious to see how Magnus would begin his experimenting.

"Now," Magnus called.

_"Pardon? What do you mean by now?"_

"I mean summon whatever you wish now. I am more than ready as I am." It was the avatar's turn to raise a burning eyebrow.

"_Indeed? Already prepared? Somewhat boastful and arrogant, aren't you? Perhaps I've not made it clear, that while you are far more resilient, you are not indestructible by any means. And any foolish mistakes brought about by your ego and pride is unacceptable. I put forth a good amount of my own essence into empowering you, and I'll not have it squandered so meaninglessly with your conceited attempts to impress me."_ Magnus turned to the god, his face serious and still.

"I'm touched by your worries. But what I say isn't out of pride nor to impress. For one to get the most accustom to something new, they need to learn to use it in a split second. In training, I want to put my skills to the test. I cannot do so if I am merely jumping around by myself, now can I? To face a foe, when my life feels threatened, my reactions will be faster and I'll be required to think quicker. A good skill to have, I'm sure you'll agree. And do not concern yourself with my well being. I have been given a valuable gift; to have infinitely more years than I should and powers straight from the gods themselves; I'll not fritter it away here moments after I received it. I thought you said I was smart? Having doubts in my now half-mortal mind?"

Zigar's face mirrored Magnus's calm unwavering expression, the two staring into the others eyes. Finally, a smile began to rise from Zigar, as he chuckled.

"_I do not know whether to strike you down in a vengeful hellfire for such insolent words, or to agree with you. For a mortal in the presence of a god, you certainly have arrogance. But as you said, I do believe you are intelligent, so I suppose I will have faith in my own recommendation. Very well, let's see exactly what you can handle."_ With this declaration, the god lifted one of his arms up high, calling forth some manner of servant to do battle with his demi-god.

In a blaze of a swirling inferno, up from the ground came a towering creature. Its skin was charcoal black, with a face full of filthy bright orange hair. It was tall indeed, well over twenty-four spans, with a squat thick body, and ugly protruding lower jaw, to display its unsightly inner mouth, including yellow colored teeth, and dark gums. It was wearing an enormous suit of dark ring mail, tight fitting, and a pack strung over its back. In its hands was a gargantuan two-handed sword, with a keen and intimidating looking edge.

This creature was a native to the realm of fire, being one familiar with the blistering lands. A fire giant, a hateful, militaristic, violent type of the species. And this one looked none too happy about his surroundings, being ripped from what he had previously been doing. Magnus stared up at the daunting figure, which was glowering back at him. Zigar had vanished somewhere along the lines, leaving the two of them alone. _Just the way I like it_, Magnus thought with a smile. Not a good idea.

Seeing that smile must have triggered something for the fire giant bellowed in rage. He didn't even ask a single question, or even hurl an insult towards Magnus, opting to instead raise up his huge weapon, and bring it down on top of the little mans head. Undoubtedly with intentions of splitting him in two. Magnus's reaction was a sight to behold indeed. He didn't move at all. He could have but he didn't. Instead, he lifted his hand, palm open facing up, and waited. At the last second, he seized the end of the descending blade of the long sword, halting it at once, a sudden jolt that shocked the giant.

This huge warrior had swung a massively heavy sword, using incredible might, and yet Magnus was holding it off with one hand, and not appearing like he was straining. Magnus knew that he could defeat this creature simply, he felt it in his body, his newfound strength was all but pouring off of him.

Taunting this giant may have amusing, but he didn't feel like letting this fight drag out. He had other things to be doing, so he decided in his mind to end it. Without so much as a twitch, Magnus fired a huge force of psionic energy, a crushing wave which lashed out, and belted the giant right in the legs. The power behind this attack was the equivalency of the fire giant being struck by an invisible bolder, as tall as a normal man, moving at tremendous speed.

Naturally, the brute lost his balance, and with a roar of surprised pain fell forward. Not wasting a second Magnus, still holding on to the sword, pulled hard with a single sharp jerk, yanking the hilt from the giant's grasp. Before the towering mound could fall atop him, Magnus crouched and silently leapt straight up into the air, hovering a instant over his prone opponent.

He twisted the great sword around, bringing the oversized weapon to bear, and pointed it straight down, and ceased his hovering. He plunged downward, and landed square on the giants shoulders, while the wide blade pierced straight into the back of the giant's head, going in and coming out with a crunch of shattering bone.

There was a gurgle from the giant and a gasp, before it let out its last breath, its body going limp, save for a few twitching muscle spasms. At once Zigar was there again. While he showed nothing, save a curious eye, he was indeed impressed. Magnus had simply adapted himself perfectly to what he could and could not do, such as having the precision and strength necessary to stop that descending sword, almost as if he already knew about his various abilities and their limitations. Such rapid adjustment was quite remarkable.

_"Ah, so you knew what you were doing after all. Well, I was thinking you were going to require a significant amount of time to test yourself and learn of your boundaries, but you've seem to have done quite nicely on your own. Unless there is something else you'd like to do here, then I suggest we move on to the great forge of Alaronus. We need to get you outfitted properly. It seems you will be deployed back to the Prime even sooner than I expected."_

Magnus shrugged, but before leaving, clenched his hand, which promptly erupted in fire. Sensing its power, he turned as casually as one would expect him to be, pointed his open palm towards a large outcropping of rock, and with a roaring discharge, launched a huge stream of searing fire at the stones. When he ceased, the great black rocks had become soft and melted. Proof enough of exactly how much heat he could generate.

"No," he answered nonchalantly, offhandedly walking past a clearly amused Zigar; "I'm through here." The god watched him pass, shaking his head, and the both of them reentered the hall.


	5. Return to the Prime

**Chapter 5:** Return to the Prime

_"I take it you noticed my sense of humor?" _the god avatar asked Magnus, giving him a sideways grin. "_By summoning a fire giant. I thought something from your quest would fit nicely. And while it was also of fire and would have been an easy enough thing to do, I just didn't have the heart to summon a red dragon for you to fight. You are strong, but I am doubtful that you would have emerged from that battle unscathed." _

Magnus said nothing. He knew that if a red dragon were called forth to fight him, he would have fought it, and most likely…won. True a red dragon is considered extremely dangerous, but its best weapon, its horrible searing flames would be useless. Magnus was far smaller, far faster, and in the extreme case that he was pinned down by the beast, he could have used his psionics to escape its clutches. It would have been a long fight indeed, but he was sure he would have emerged as the victor.

_"But enough, I think with that display, you show that you are more than ready to proceed. When you are properly outfitted, then you shall be formidable indeed."_

"Tell me," Magnus asked, "To create these weapons and such…what does one need?" Zigar thought, but shrugged.

_"Nothing really. We have materials here, enough to forge incredible items. Of course, if one was to get an object of great power, yes…it could be combined with something to imbue it with more power. An artifact or a piece of some dominant creature. Is that what you meant?"_

"It is. And do you have anything like that on hand here?"

_"No. We have no need of things that powerful. What we forge is adequate enough. But it doesn't mean we won't. Why? Thinking of going out hunting?"_

"Perhaps. Let me ask you…must I receive these weapons _now_? Or might I come back later, when I have the proper materials and components?" This must have tickled Zigar, for he let loose a laugh, echoing throughout the mighty hall.

_"Interesting question…Most mortals that are offered things from this place take them at once, and don't even think about such things. Hmm…well now…I suppose you could now that I think about it. If you feel there is greater strength to be had through a part of some creature or relic, then yes, by all means, retrieve what you need, then return."_

"If that is the case then, then I presume there is no time limit on that? For what I have in mind is an object of intense power and strength, however, even in my new form, I lack the might necessary to bring down my quarry. I think it would be best if I were to return to the Prime, so that I could begin my training. Only once I have grown stronger, will I be a match. I feel that I have much to learn about myself and my new abilities that I have yet to unlock before I take on such a challenge."

_ "A time limit? Hah ha ha, you are so amusing. Do you really expect that part of the offer to be retracted? But I must say, you've caught my interest. I wonder what it is you are thinking of? Ah well, I suppose you will return when you must. Very well, it will be as you wish. You desire to make yourself more formidable before you arm yourself accordingly. Most honorable. As they say, "The weapon does not make the man". But before you are off, I have one more little thing for you."_

Zigar held up his hand, palm open, pointing it at Magnus. For a moment it flared a bright indigo, radiating off him and on to Magnus, covering him, before fading away.

"_There. I have granted you the ability to personally change planes. In your mind are now the planar coordinates of the Elemental Plane of Fire. When you are ready to return, you will be able to transport here instantaneously. Consider this place a stronghold for you, as you, now being a Demi-god, are free to come at your leisure. Now then,"_ the god stepped back, bowing, _"You must excuse me. I'm sorry for not showing you the way out, but I still have to take care of the mess that those underling elemental avatars made on the Prime. No need to tell you though, as you experienced it first hand. I will see you again. Farewell Magnus."_

And with a tremendous rush of flames, sinking away into mere ash, Zigar vanished, off to resume his never-ending task of being a critical piece of power on the Prime.

Magnus turned away, ready to warp. It was truly remarkable to watch him and his disposition of things. After everything that had happened to him that day, starting with the samurai fight, ending with becoming a Demi-god, he hadn't seemed all that interested, as if it was all merely a passing distraction for him, something for his amusement. He had received immortality and a great gift over the force of fire. In essence, he now could easily govern meager mortals on the Prime, being a tyrannical ruling fiend if he so chose, and yet he looked about as thrilled as a Xiao monk, who are renowned for being as stiff as Adamantite.

That would have been somewhat okay if that was on his exterior alone, being cool and calm about this, instead of leaping about like an idiot, but the same held true on the inside. He was as dead as one could get, emotionless; no joy, no anger, no nothing. One must remember though, as a psionicist, his discipline is similar to that of a monk. They must mediate, concentrate, and focus themselves and their power, else their training is all for naught. In his human subconscious, yes, Magnus was indeed pleased with this, but on the surface, and even in his waking consciousness, one would have starved to death searching for some trace of emotion.

In truth, he was rather eager to return. While the promise of weapons of earth-shattering power was quite alluring, Magnus knew that if he trained himself in every aspect of bodily, mentally, and magical means, he would be a force greater than any item. He knew this to be true, as he had witnessed on his travels and during his adventure, hidden abilities within others that showed incredible destructive capability.

Of course, he wasn't so blind as to know that power is not merely in the form of annihilation, as one could be amazingly mighty, but by all accounts be a weakling in battle. Such as someone who had the skill to raise the dead and to alter the world around them. Mages and priests, perfect examples of how weak-looking people can wield tremendous and somewhat terrifying power. It was this that Magnus wished to acquire.

The only thing was…he didn't know why he wanted to. Sure, power was great, being stronger than any force of evil was appealing, but what then? Ruling over the Prime would have undoubtedly be easy once he was finished with his personal enhancement. Truly, what mortal agency could stand in the way of an almighty Demi-God? But such ambitions did not appeal to him.

So…what? The answer lied deep inside. He had a feeling, a tingling sensation that was whispering to him, guiding and directing him. Instructing him. This sense was a part of his psionic subconscious, so it was sensitive to such matters of possible future events. If it told him that he must acquire power, then it was either a warning of dire things to come or something else entirely. Of what, he didn't know.

"Enough speculating," he said aloud, rolling his shoulders. "First I will return, then see if I can find Teriwyn and the others. I wonder if they too have gone through such a change." Ready to return to his own world, Magnus concentrated just as he had been instructed, picturing the Prime Material, a location that he knew very well.

Then, without warning or a sound, he was covered in a sapphire aura, that swelled over him like a tidal wave. And with a surge of cosmic energy, he was torn out of the very plane and hurtled through the planar conduits, to his destination. The trip lasted for but a moment, and ended with him being somewhat violently ejected from the warp, back onto solid ground. Ground fertile with grass and moist soil.

After the slight disorientation passed, he gazed around. He stood at a most familiar setting. Just outside the sprawling city of Vintaro, where he and his company had returned the sacred elemental artifacts, in order to destroy them, so such a fiendish plan may never be attempted again. And just as he had left it, the Githzerai airship, still tied down with ropes, humming with its interdimensional force, as well as gleaming in the sunlight. At once, he stretched forth his mind, to try and establish telepathic contact with his counterparts. He strained in all directions, but turned up nothing. He mused on what this could mean.

_"They are not here,"_ a familiar voice addressed him. While it was sounding from everywhere around him, it was only inside his mind, dimensional telepathic contact. Zigar was watching him from a distant place. _"Nor will they come back here. The elemental gods have decreed that only one Demi-God is necessary to protect each plane. Your friends have been sent to other realms, where they will become situated and continue their own doings. Do not worry about their fate, as you must concentrate on your own world. But fear not…you may see them again. Once your strength is built up, you can travel to other planes with ease, and visit and join them in battle if you so chose. Just so long as you do not neglect your duty here. As I said, the power you now wield is to use as you see fit, so by all means. In the meanwhile, I figured I could give you a bit of assistance. I have placed several items that you might find useful on your ship, which by the way is now yours. You do know how to pilot the thing yes?"_

"Yes I do, and by what do mean by…things? Details would be nice." The unseen god only laughed in return. _"I will not spoil the surprise for you. Board your vessel and see! Take care, and good luck!"_ And with that, the presence of the fire god was gone, leaving Magnus by himself again. He stared up at the sky, shrugging his shoulders.

"I hate surprises." But just as he was instructed, he climbed aboard his ship, and stepped into the cockpit. Sitting in the chair was a Bag of Holding, an invaluable tool, as well as a few other equally useful things. A fine pair of scimitars, housed in black scabbards, complete with a sword belt.

Upon pulling one of the weapons free, the blade sang with the sweet resonance, giving off a strong heat, the metal polished and honed to a near invisible edge. It was clear, through his keen senses; Magnus knew that aside from the hotness of the metal, the steel itself was enchanted, strengthened and hardened to have more cutting power. Knowing that during his training he would most likely drawn into a fight, it would be handy to have a weapon or two.

Next was a sheet of parchment, neatly folded inside an envelope with half a dozen names on them. Written below each name, was the name of a country and a city. On the top of the page were the words, _"Possible Tutors of the Mind, Magic and the Clergy"._

"Seems like he is as eager as I to begin," Magnus commented aloud, "Whatever speeds up the process…" Next, draped over the back of the chair, was a coat, an overcoat, long and dangling, made of soft black leather. This too, though appearing to be a simple garment, was also radiating a sense of magic, giving it added abilities of protection. Fond of black, and finding the style of things to his taste, he slid it over his shoulders, the tails of the coat nearly reaching his boots.

And lastly, was another note. This one was a message. _"There is a sizable amount of coin in the bag. Something you will unquestionably need. After all, currency is what makes the mortal world go round. Use it however you wish."_

"Money…I don't know how much good it will do in my care, but I won't turn down a gift." Magnus tied the Bag of Holding onto his belt, and straightened. "Now," he sat in the chair, and went through the routine of firing up the airship's engines. "I won't need this thing for a while, so I'll need a place to park it. Perhaps I can get old man Queleven to keep an eye on it. This thing did cost us fifty thousand platinum after all. No sense in throwing it away. Then, I think I'll pop round to one of these names on the list, and see what I can learn."

With a course of action set, and his transportation now fired up, Magnus began guiding the massive ship off the ground. The guards on the walls of Vintaro watched as the mystical vessel rose, sending down clouds of cool steam, blanketing them and obscuring their vision. Then, with a roaring of air, and a high pitched whine, the airship took off a high speeds, rising high up into the sky, tearing away. Magnus was ready to start on his long and no doubt trying journey.


	6. Journey to the Teacher

**Chapter 6:** Journey to the Teacher

"What? What in the name of Ilithax's third foot?!" Queleven sputtered the moment he opened his door, flustered to no end, "Why is it that you people just _keep_ showing up out of nowhere, and continue to hound me? What do you want this time? Can't a wizard get on with his careful studies in peace? Have I not already done everything you've wanted? Must I spell it out for you all?"

Magnus waited calmly until this outburst was winding down. He and his group had met this grizzled old man during the course of their journey, a renowned sage of Fire. He had provided invaluable knowledge in obtaining the four artifacts, and had proven to be a vital asset in their endeavor with his assortment of magical items and spells. His tower too was a famous landmark, situated in the great city of Mercala.

However, it was not the only spire in town, but rather, one of four. One for each of the elements. The other sages had been away or preoccupied with other troubles during this time, and were not quite so well versed with elemental lore as Queleven. Not having any other closely tied acquaintances on the Prime, Magnus had no other place to leave his airship, he now being the soul owner. Thus he flew it straight to Mercala, mooring it off against the balcony to the great Fire Tower. And Queleven couldn't have been more displeased.

"You want me to do _what?!"_ he bellowed, his already beefy face growing all the redder, as Magnus nonchalantly explained things. "That's ridiculous! I'll not have some giant floating monstrosity hovering over my head day in and day out, whilst you're off somewhere fooling about! Find another place to park that tub! This isn't a harbor!"

A response that Magnus had expected, as Queleven had always been quite touchy and grumpy at anything that may inconvenienced him, such as any sort of contact with another living thing. But when it came to helping, he was reliable even though his manner might have suggested he did so begrudgingly.

"Yes I know, this isn't a harbor, but I wasn't suggesting that I leave it here under your care for no compensation. I am fully prepared to pay you for your troubles. And it's not as though I'm abandoning it here. I'll be back before long. I'd just rather place it in familiar and trusting hands, then merely leaving it on the side of some road. I'd preferably not have bandits try and plunder it, and unknowingly remove a power crystal, blowing a town off the face of the world." The fire wizard humphed at that.

"Compensation? Hah, so you think you can buy me off with money huh? I may take some for a down payment, but if I let you keep this thing here, I'll need a bit more. Seeing as I know you're a strapping young man, I'm assuming that I can count on you for simple grunt work like before?"

"What is it that you need exactly? I am eager to begin my new training, and the faster I train, the less time I have to leave this here." Queleven stroked his short goatee thoughtfully, giving off that sly grin. The one that he occasionally got when he was being sneaky. Magnus had seen it several times before, and had committed its meaning to memory.

"Well, I don't have anything in mind right _now_, but that doesn't mean that there isn't something out there that I want. I'll think of it eventually. So, I'll tell you what I'll do lad. You pay me a thousand gold, and promise to come on the run when I call for an errand, then I'll let you leave that junkheap here for a while. But if I get to feeling that you _did _abandon that thing here, then it's up for grabs, and I'll start taking it apart, and sell it piece by piece. You follow?"

"I follow. Thanks again."

"Yeah yeah, you kids never seem to miss a chance to bother me. You _are_ aware that there are three other perfectly suitable elemental sages across the square to pester? You needn't come here each and every time you have a question or need a favor. By the way, where's the rest of your posse? The hairy one and those two pretty elf girls? You going solo now?"

"They have been sent to other worlds to act as their protectors. It's a long story, one that maybe I'll share with you later."

"Don't bother with it. So long as you can fetch me the occasional dragon eye or manticore wing every now and then, then I'll be happy. Now, if you're done talking my ears off, I _do_ have work to be getting back to. Leave your ship here, and just dump the money anywhere. I'll sort through it later."

With the business concluded, Queleven shuffled back inside his tower laboratory, to resume his works, no doubt involved volatile and explosive chemicals and spells. Whenever Magnus or his group had come by this place, they were always greeted by an explosion, a flavorful smell of burning, and clouds of smoke. That and loud curses, angrily belittling the _obviously_ flawed materials.

Contented that he knew that he wouldn't need to worry about his ship any further, Magnus pulled from his new Bag of Holding a large handful of gold coins, and left them on a nearby table. It was more than a thousand, but he figured a little extra was in order. He and his group had come by and asked an awful lot from the man over the last few weeks.

Now unhindered, Magnus made ready to begin his journey. His course was set, but there was one thing he needed to determine before he began. There were six names on the list that Zigar had left him. Six possible teachers that could educate him in some form of power. The question that now stood before him was…which one to visit first? There were several interesting names in the bunch, they being somewhat famous throughout the world.

Alfador Melvak, a wizard, or warlock as a matter of fact, who wielded great power, a hero of his hometown of Muldahar. Then, there was High Priest Quaid, a cleric of the Flame, whose connection with his god was so strong; it was said that it was difficult to determine if one was speaking to the man or the deity. Magnus had a hunch he'd be able to tell. And who could have missed Dalan Noh, said to be the world's best swordsman. This claim had never been substantiated, but naturally it was difficult to be mistaken with that title unless it was very near true.

To Mangus, one man was as good as another, he didn't really care as to which he chose first. But yet…he did. His primary power had always been his psionics. Wizardy and clerical magic's were fascinating, true enough, but he was a psionicist, and if there was anything he should increase about himself, he should start with that. He knew that in terms of power, he was a great master, but his primary focuses had always been Psychokinesis and Psychometabolism. He knew little about Clairsentience or the mysteries of Telepathy. Now was as good a time to find out as any.

As it was, the remaining three names on the list were known psionicists of high standing. All three were names that Magnus hadn't heard of, but seeing as psionics was a widely unknown practice, and even considered a crime in some places, it wasn't really surprising.

The first name was Verdande, located far across the ocean, outside of a city called Oten. The second was Zellra; located far north in what looked to be the middle of an island covered with snow. The last one was simply labeled as M. K.; the address was in the middle of the Hills of Black Lightning.

Not that the distance to these sites really mattered, but Magnus was the closest to the last name. Which in a way was good. The simple two letters had sparked his curiosity. All psionicists were enigmatic by nature; it went with the territory, but something tickled him about this. It interested him. It may very well have been nothing at all, but he had a hunch that this might be something more than a regular psionicist.

"Only one way to find out…" Summoning and concentrating the two psionic disciplines of Psychoportation and his limited forms of Clairsentience, splicing them together, he projected his mind outward to locate the land feature. They were hard to miss. After choosing a landing site, he activated the science of Teleport, instantaneously sending him hurtling through space and time, only to erupt back onto our world with a flash of light and a snap of energy. He stood atop a peak and surveyed the scene.

They were called the Hills of Black Lightning, but they hardly were hills. Mountains they were, but not the nice sort. Not the gentle snow covered slopes of the Silver Mountains', or even the rising daunting and dramatic towering of the Darthbor. No no, this mountain range wasn't extremely vertical, but rather it covered an extensive area, with unfriendly terrain. Huge jagged peaks and rather nasty looking cliffs and chasms of dark rocks, shadows clinging to every surface. A breeding ground for evil creatures such as giants, dragons, and other more horrible things.

What sort of teacher would intentionally inhabit such a forsaken pit, Magnus wasn't sure, but it must be someone who obviously could put up with the constantly foul weather that hung over the place like a noxious gas.

From his current position, Magnus scanned around the area, turning in a full circle and straining his eyes to see. It was no good; everything just looked like more sinister mountains, so to aid himself, Magnus called upon his psionics once again to increase his five senses, making his eyes and ears become far sharper and clearer than before. He could now see like a hawk, and hear like an elf. And should he want to, smell like a bloodhound. Double checking the area with his now enhanced sight still yielded no results of anything that might have been a dwelling.

This meant nothing though, as the range itself was massive, the chances of finding it easily weren't very good. But now being immortal, Magnus had all the time in the world to search, so he began to do just that. He moved to another section, and began the process of once again searching carefully for anything that might be a place that a person could live. Again nothing. Thus, a teleport and search pattern went on for more than two hours, Magnus remaining completely calm in this normally aggravating activity. Then, finally, he almost passed right by what he was no doubt searching for.

Just as he was finishing up with yet another section, and was preparing to teleport away to another, he caught sight of a slight glimmer from across a wide fissure at the bottom of a craggy valley. It caught his eye, as it was the first lustrous thing he had seen since his arrival, everything else around him was drab and dark. He paused and examined the area in question more thoroughly. Whatever it was, it didn't move, and Magnus was curious to see exactly what it was that shimmered. Quick as you please, he teleported across the chasm, and scanned about again. This time, he knew he had hit the mark.

Where he now stood was a path, almost hidden by several enormous boulders, unobservable from where he had been standing previously. It led downward into an even deeper section of the vale, spanning to the bottom. There, built into the very walls of the canyon around him, was a largish structure, a sizeable two-storied building of simple and rustic design, of both wood and rock construct. Around the grounds of this building was other evidence of human life. A small pool of water, complete with a water wheel, a small row of fences, and stables. For there were a number of horses tied to posts, while others were meandering about.

The shine in question that had caught his eye earlier had been a bronze coin, tied to a length of dull coppery chain, almost like a medallion. It had been dangling from a plain wooden pole, about six spans in height. Carved into the pole were not but two letters. M.K.

"Seems I've found it," he said aloud. Instead of again teleporting down, he began to casually meander down the path, familiarizing himself with the layout. He also took in the sights. The building had been constructed in a convenient and very sensible place, deep down in the mountain crevices, away from the harsh storms that blew and howled right above. The heavy rock faces shielded everything, keeping things safe. Though one would have to constantly endure the moaning and wailing of the rushing wind, that would unceasingly rage across and through the mountains.

As Magnus approached this strange building, he at once picked up on several familiar sensations originating from within. As a matter of fact, he could both sense it and see it. Ripples of force cascading along the air, spiraling up and away, while others merely hung about, dissipating into nothingness. On his skin he could feel the tingles, these demonstrations of physic power. Being as skilled as he was with his abilities and as used to other psionic thoughts as he was, he could sense nearby users of psionic impressions without even consciously doing so.

And what's more, he could even see them, as incredible a phenomenon as this might have been. Psionics were forces and thoughts, things that didn't take physical form. Magnus could see the distortions of the world around him, as these energies flowed onward their appointed tasks. Even more evidence that this was what he had been looking for.

There were several doors to the place, which seemed far larger now that he stood on its doorstep, but Magnus approached the largest entrance, with the plain wood and iron hinges. The weighty bronze knocker was ancient looking, crusted with flakes of rust, but nonetheless sent a pounding resonance throughout the whole building. This faded away into silence, which spanned for many minutes.

Then, from the others side of the door there was a quick and intense flash, along with the telltale popping that accompanied one who teleports. With the sounds of heavy locks and bars being removed, the door groaned opened, and an almost ridiculously small man stepped out. He was perhaps only five spans tall, but to almost compensate for his limited vertical size, he was quite round. His face being very heavy, with puffy cheeks, a thick neck, and a glossy bald head.

His garb was that of a monk; robes of dark burdensome hues, brown and gray, but with a splash of bright orange from the sash over his shoulder. This robe was tied around his extensive midsection with a dried leather belt, which had several pouches hanging from it, and a basic pair of thatched sandals on his pudgy feet. Almost expectedly, he was also wearing a pair of spectacles, very thin and wiry, hardly going around his round head.

This man squinted behind his glasses, but his expression was not unfriendly. "Greetings," he hailed, craning his laden neck outward. Magnus responded in kind, with a nod of his own. "Hello." At once, Magnus sensed and saw waves of physic thoughts generating from this man, reaching out towards him, circling around. He immedietly became aware of another presence in his head, slipping around, searching for answers. It was a rather impressive force he was sensing, but one that Magnus could have easily repelled if a psionic contest had been waged. But such violent means were not his style, lest there was no choice.

"I'll save you the trouble of a mind probe," Magnus informed the small man, whose eyebrow rose at the comment, "My name is Magnus, and I am…well, many things, but more importantly…a psionicist. I was informed that I might find one here that would be willing to impart his knowledge upon me. Is that information correct, or have I been misinformed?" With this, the psionic projections stopped, and the monk nodded.

"Ah yes. You are here to speak to the Master. Yes indeed, you were informed correct. Please, come in." Magnus nodded again, and entered, trying to determine if this place was a school for psionics, or a monastery. For all around there were many shelves, full of books. Furthermore, in the front hall there were many different types of religion paraphernalia. At the same time, there were hardly any other adornments than that, not having many festive decorations. A sign of both poverty, and modesties. Perhaps it was both at the same time.

"The Master is in meditation right now," Magnus's guide went on, shuffling down the small corridors, "But he is due to return to us shortly. For over a week, his room has been silent. He requires much concentration to bring his mental powers to a maximum."

"I see. And this master's name is…?"

"He does not like for us to speak his name to outsiders, no offence to you. If he feels you are worthy, he will tell you his."

"None taken, and fair enough. Can I ask _your_ name, or am I not worthy to know that either?" The round man managed to twist his neck around, giving Magnus a slightly exasperated eyebrow raising.

"Your tone is skeptical, and our ways do not make sense to you, but it is to be expected. When you meet the master, things will become all the clearer. And yes, I'd be happy to tell you my name. It is Otis. A pleasure."

"Likewise." The dialogue ended there, and Magnus merely followed along in silence, observing his surroundings. They passed a many good other people, most of which were also garbed in robes of a monk. Yet nearly all, if not all of them were projecting psionic impressions, meaning that this place was populated solely by psionicists. Warriors of the mind, Magnus's style. At last, after going deep into the monastery/school, they came to a closed door, with an image of a man meditating burned into it with a hot iron. Magnus could sense from within a tremendous amount of psionic force pouring out, a power as strong as his own.

"It seems he is still in the middle of his meditation," Otis surmised. "Perhaps you might wait in our library until he is finished...?" Magnus would have agreed, as he wasn't in an impatient rush to meet this man, but almost at once, the great power from the room began to diminish, stemming and stopping altogether. From inside, a bolt was drawn back, and the door cracked open. A voice came wafting out.

"Come in," it called, "We have much to discuss. Otis, thank you." Otis bowed at the door, and the man undoubtedly beyond it, turned and waddled away. Magnus shrugged and entered as the voice had bid. Inside was more of the same.

Sparse living items, no bed, a single table and chair, and a bookcase filled with many tomes of all sorts. In the center of the earthen floor was a marvelous rug of lavish design, though a bit dirty and threadbare from seeing many years. Still sitting on this rug was a man, who looked both young and old at the same time. At sensing him enter, this fellow rose, dusting his simple monk tunic off, not being practically crippled with the daunting garments of the others, and faced Magnus.

He was very skinny, with a very slender frame. His arms had a somewhat sinewy look to them, but still being rather bony. His head was bald in its entirety, and he had no hair to speak of to determine what his hair color may have been, for he was missing his eyebrows as well. His face, though young, was as hard as stone, with many lines and creases crisscrossing, evidence of a hard and trying existence. His smile was small, his teeth looking slightly decayed,, and he looked back at Magnus with a pair of yellow eyes. A most peculiar color for a man, being almost sinister in nature, especially when in combination with the somber expression. But the presence he was giving off wasn't one of malevolence, but of knowledge and intelligence.

"Greetings Magnus," this man spoke with a light tone, reminding Magnus of himself. This voice though was slower, and filled with a great amount of wisdom. He bowed low, a sign of courtesy. "I am pleased to meet you. My name is Kual. Kual Laxion, at your service."


	7. Mind over Mind & The Invisible Fist

**Chapter 7: **Mind Over Mind & The Invisible Fist

"I take it that you knew I was coming?" Magnus inquired, hovering near the door, "What with knowing my name and such?"

"Oh yes, I had foreseen it. But not in as much detail as you might think. I merely could sense that a being of great power would come seeking me, in search of something that I can give him. Your name however, I merely guessed at."

"By guess, I don't suppose you meant…mind reading?"

"You don't miss things I see. You _are_ correct. But please," he waved a hand, motioning him to sit. Magnus accepted, stepping up to the rug, and sat lightly. "If we are to talk, we may as well be comfortable. Unnecessary stress clouds ones focus and inner peace. Tell me Magnus, who are you? And what aid do you seek from me?"

Magnus didn't hesitate, and went into the current happenings; saving the world from rambunctious sub-elements, being chosen to become a Demi-God, and searching the world for teachers who could train him in every area of his expertise. It was a strange tale to hear no doubt, being very farfetched and…perhaps even a little demented sounding. When he was done, Master Kual's eyes were shut, nodding his head, listening deeply.

"Hmm, it does indeed seem that you have come into a great power. And now, you have come to me to be taught the secrets of the mind, avenues that you have not yet explored?"

"More or less. From what you've said, and what I've gathered by your…profession, you deal more in terms of Clairsentience and Telepathy. Two areas that I am sorely lacking. Any assistance or training that you could impart onto me would be greatly appreciated…" Kual's face was unmoving, and he gently leaned back, tilting his eyes upward to the ceiling overhead.

"I understand your desire, and you must forgive my skepticism, but a few matters pertaining to your goals are weighing on my mind, making me a bit…hesitant. Perhaps you could answer a question for me. For instance, when one is granted such strength, achieving a place near the gods themselves, and yet to still seek even _more_ power? That is…well to me…an alarming thing. Why are you dissatisfied with what you already have? Is the control of the element of Fire not enough to keep the world around us in balance? For what purpose do you wish to become stronger? Is it for your ego? To be the most powerful in the world, to have no equal, and have no one whom could contest you? Is it for malevolent intentions, or perhaps even to unseat the very lord you have been empowered by? What say you? Tell me in your own words, as to why I should train someone who is already strong, only to make them all the more dangerous."

A valid question, and one Magnus was still unsure about. And so, he answered truthfully.

"Truth be told, I've been wondering that myself. As I said, in terms of Clairsentience, I'm not very skillful; Psychokinetic and Psychometabolism are my strong points. Even so, with my psychic talents, I have been getting these…impressions…feelings if you will, ever since I defeated the sub-elemental creatures. These unfamiliar impulses have been urging me forward on this particular path, almost instructing my destiny. I have no ego to speak of, and to commit atrocities that you are most certainly suggesting would only result in me becoming a permanent residence in Hell. An unappealing outcome, to put it mildly. And as for turning on Zigar, that is an unwise course of action, as if I _did_ somehow managed to dethrone him, I would _not_ be made the new god of Fire. If he goes…I go, as we are tied together. So, to answer…I don't truly know why. I just have this feeling, an urge to acquire this strength, as if I am supposed to do something with it, but have yet to be given the knowledge as to what that may be or why. As a psionicist, I know better than to disregard those feelings. And perhaps with training of this nature, I may finally discern the meaning of these impressions that I feel, and give me a path to follow. That is all I can say."

Kual sat quietly, studying Magnus's face carefully. Kual was indeed a powerful man, perhaps the top man in his field. However, despite being in the position to be a teacher for many years, he had never taken on students before. And never had he divulged any of his own secrets or techniques of his own psionics to anyone. Not even his own followers.

Nonetheless, he felt an unmistakable connection with this stranger claiming to be a demi-god. Such things would normally not be believed, but even without his mind-reading, Kual could sense an almost overwhelming presence from him. There was little doubt that it was true. But Kual wasn't one to be forced into service; not feeling obligated to train someone just because of their standing. It does indeed take a mighty man to defy the gods. Mighty, and perhaps foolish…

Then why was he considering it? Primarily it was regarding the same sort of impressions that Magnus had spoken of. Kual knew them well. Often times, he would get this little twitch just behind his eyes, urging him towards some unforeseeable goal. As it was, he himself couldn't always fully interpret the meanings of these feelings. However, such things had never led him astray before.

"I see…I understand what you mean Magnus, Demi-God of Fire, defender of the Prime material plane. And I have decided to train you. Not because I feel I must, nor because I fear the wrath of your Lord, but because I feel a certain _impression_ coming from you. As well, I have a responsibility to teach you the mystic arts of our powers. Your training shall begin tomorrow. You may sleep in the guest quarters. I trust you will not be offended by our modest living arrangements, or our lack of worldly comforts."

Magnus grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

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_The following day…_

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The next morning, after a sparse breakfast, both psionicists were outside in the bowels of the canyons. Kual had instructed all of the other monks that Magnus was free to come and go as he wished, and also to have full access to the monastery. Not that there was many places to go, or even that Magnus felt like exploring. He was merely wishing to begin.

"Now then," Kual turned to his first pupil, " Normally I would offer you some opening remarks, reminding you of the dangers of the misuse of our powers, but I feel you have heard such things before in the past, and thus I shall skip it. There are three things I must teach you…First, there is the ability to reach out, and make contact with another person's mind, regardless where they are. To be an accomplished telepath, you must be able to sense and single out a lone entity across the very world. If you can find it, then you can manipulate that person from _thousands_ of leagues away. Secondly, I will teach you an ability that you will find useful. It is of the Psychokinetic discipline, so such a technique shall be easier for you to comprehend. Once those have been mastered then I can take you down the path of extrasensory perception, and begin to unlock Clairsentience. Let's begin."

"First, I shall contact your mind, so that you understand what it is you need to do. Relax and perceive…" Closing his eyes, Kual began to concentrate his thoughts. At once, Magnus could see invisible psionic waves radiating off of him, reaching out, and straining towards him. They circled around his head before settling onto him. He then felt a slight tickle, a lingering sense of pressure behind the eyes. It was then that he heard the psionicists voice inside his head. An unnerving thing to one who had never heard another person's thoughts speak to you from inside your own consciousness. Magnus wasn't unnerved.

_You were able to feel the contact?_

"Yes, I felt pressure, and a tingle on the nape of my neck."

_Good. Each telepath has their own means of contact. Some are even more subtle, whilst others are far more intense, afflicting the contacted mind with a splitting pain. Once you begin to use this power, you may decide how you wish to do so. Now, I want you to concentrate your thoughts, reaching out. Think hard about myself, trying to use you powers as a sort of homing spell, to seek out my own particular psionic signature. _

Doing as he was instructed, Magnus closed his eyes, and began to think of Kual's mind, trying to picture him, the feeling of the contact, and his location. He did indeed feel his own thoughts taking form as psionic waves, and they shakily began to waft from his head. About halfway to where Kual stood, they began to waver and break apart, evaporating. He tried again, concentrating harder, but these new thought waves sputtered out even sooner.

_You push too hard, you must let things flow from your mind with ease, remaining passive and at peace. You are still behaving like a Psychokinetic, using psionics forcefully. With Telepathy, you must be gentle and meticulous, using a light touch, not attempting to arduously ram your own psychic impression into another's mind. Again._

This went on, hour after hour. It was not that Magnus wasn't good at it, or that Kual was being cryptic, it's just Magnus had always utilized his powers in different ways, venting enormous amounts of PSP to grasp, throw, and disintegrate his targets. To do things with a dainty touch was a switch indeed. However, he was persistent, and by the ninth hour, concentrating deeply and remaining serene, he at last established contact.

He wasn't able to maintain it for very long and quickly lost it, but it was progress. With both masters using their powers to their limits, they retired to eat and then rest, regaining their strength. And again, another hard day of training followed, Magnus pushing himself once again, striving to make contact, and keep it until he severed it.

"Once you have touched a mind," Kual informed him, "Things shall become easier. You have the focus to sift through a person's mind, and I shall teach you about the centers of the brain, the ones you can manipulate, so that you can begin to utilize the wider aspects of telepathy. Of course, one thing at a time. Before I teach you more about this in greater depth, I shall switch focuses. Once you can establish and maintain a contact with a certain amount of ease, then I shall show you a most powerful ability; a fellow Psychokinetic such as yourself will most likely appreciate it."

"With all due respect," Magnus answered, breaking concentration, "I didn't come here to be taught about things I already know about. I'm here to learn about the avenues I have yet to explore."

"And I understand your concern, but I do this for more than one reason. The most important of which is for you to be able to use contact and other Telepathy powers with less trouble. I shall have you master a Psychokinetic ability, using techniques that are more familiar to you, and once you do, I will see how quickly you can change back to Telepathy and use that. Then, back to Psychokinetic again. Back and forth until you are comfortable with it. Such variation is good practice for moments of heated conflict."

This made enough sense to Magnus, who nodded and resumed what he was doing. Naturally, being a master psionicist already, it didn't take him much longer to reach his goal. By the third day, he could reach out and find Kual's mind with ease. This included when Kual was far away, teleporting to a remote area, leagues and leagues away. And going even further, Magnus began contacting other people, the monks at the monestary, people who were unpsionic, and even animals. Though there were not to many thoughts in the horses and other creatures roaming the canyon. Soon he was contacting acquaintances he knew across the world, and touched minds with them.

"Very good," Kual congratulated, "You have mastered the power of Contact. Once you have completed the next phase of your training, we shall return to Telepathy, so that I may demonstrate techniques that are for the master telepath. But for now, we move on to Psychokinetic. Come." He motioned Magnus to follow, and led him around to the back of the grounds, towards an obvious training area. But not training of the mind, but of the body. A group of monks were out training, punching, kicking, and grappling, practicing the martial arts.

"You see, we study more here than just the special gifts that you and I posses. I also teach them the secrets of the age old hand-to-hand combat, a skill you may wish to learn as well…"

"Perhaps," was all Magnus said watching. Kual waved a hand, and after bowing, the students all left, leaving them.

"Now, watch closely…" With this, Kual once again closed his eyes, putting his hands together, palm to palm, and stood, breathing gently. Magnus was keeping an eye out for psionic waves, in an effort to predetermine what this Psychokinetic ability was. He watched as the familiar ripples began to radiate from Kual, but only hanging near him, like a gas. Before he could register any sort of movement, a standing wooden wall across the yard exploded.

Of course, it wasn't a blast of fire and force. No, the wall now had numerous holes forcefully knocked through it, as if some kung-fu master had just delivered numerous crushing blows to it. As Magnus was studying this, to his left there came another crushing crack, and a stone, or more precisely a bolder. was ground down into dust. Following this was the destruction of some sand-filled practice dummies, being shredded and blown away, followed by another wooden climbing wall, and another rock blew to pieces. And to finish the demonstration, the rock face of the canyon itself was struck with extraordinary force, denting the stone and sending a web of cracks running up it.

Throughout the attacks, Magnus, as well as observing the damage, also took note of Kual himself. It was almost impossible to see outright, Magnus had to concentrate far harder than normal to see a sudden wave of psionic force rush from Kual to the target. It was launched at an incredible velocity.

"The Invisible Fist," Kual said finally, opening his eyes and surveying the debris around him. "A highly focused series of blows, psionic punches and kicks, capable of reaching a great distance. A secret technique I've been developing for many years.

"Interesting," Magnus commented, finding this aptitude somewhat familiar. He had an ability in his arsenal called Project Force that would send out a wave of pure force, an invisible battering ram. However, that spread open over a wide area; these blows here were far more focused and obviously considerably more powerful. "Invisible Fist…clever name. And useful for attacking ranged enemies. But I wonder…why does a master of Telepathy and Clairsentience have such devotion to Psychokinetic skills? It is highly unusual."

"It is at that," Kual answered, stepping over and running his hand across the shattered wall. "But in addition to my psionic powers, I am also a skilled martial artist, and somewhere along the line, I wished to develop a power to combine psionics and my passion for the ancient art of fighting. Thus, I devoted my time to this goal, and have spent many long years creating this technique. I have perfected it and I have tested it. It is one of my life goals."

"And what are some of the others?"

"Ha, a nosy student eh? Well, perhaps once you are able to read minds, and shift through memories, you may figure that out. Until then, I'm afraid you'll have to be content with what you know. Now then, you must first master this attack before we move on. Begin!"


	8. The Inner Self

**Chapter 8: **The Inner Self

Training was long and hard, but after all…that's what makes it training. It took Magnus a very short amount of time to completely master the power of the Invisible Fist, able to send a series of lightning fast surges of telekinetic force rushing towards a target easily five hundred spans away with crushing power. Being a primary Psychokinetic, Magnus gained a much firmer grasp of the mechanics of it, and had far more experience in channeling destructive force through his mind.

Kual, having always used a lighter touch with him telepathy over the years, had to struggle greatly to work up the power to make his attacks forceful. The same way Magnus had to push hard to learn the less violent avenues of the mind.

In order to throw the psionic punches and kicks correctly, Kual also taught him some basic fighting moves, as the man literally was versed in a dozen different martial art forms and styles, being a living whirlwind of unarmed fury. Magnus found the concept of fist fighting to be somewhat alluring too, that little twitch once more emerging, urging his actions towards gaining power.

Very curious on what it could have possibly meant, Magnus in the midst of all his training, asked Kual about learning the arts of Clairsentience, the power over a person's perception, both in the mind and in the world. He had been getting back to sharpening his Telepathic skills, and for two and a half weeks, he had made astounding progress. And throughout the entire instruction, despite his otherwise unflinching exterior, he was beset by madness, wracking his brain day after day as to what this all could mean.

He had no idea, and couldn't even fathom at its meaning. And this irritated him greatly. Magnus was used to knowing the solutions to things, but when a problem that just didn't have an answer was put before him, it only served to drive him. Kual told him that in order to understand ones course, one must first become deeply acquainted with the person within.

"Person within?" Magnus asked with curiosity.

"Yes...A separate yet similar consciousness to your own. Many have speculated that this entity, which resides deep within your own consciousness, is a manifestation of your inner desires. Other believe that it is another being altogether, merely sharing your mind as a vessel. Not even the wisest can truly explain it."

"Why doesn't one simply ask these...entities who or what they are?"

"Hmm, that would make things simple yes, but if things were that effortless, we all would have many more answers about ourselves than we actually have. But what it _is_ isn't the point. It is what it can _tell_ you."

Magnus pondered this. "You mean to say that this inner person knows more about this feeling I'm having than I myself do?"

"It is very likely. They seem to know much about whom they speak with and the world around. They have been called spirit guides, as while they are usually cryptic about the information they offer, they more often than not point you in the right direction, giving clues and riddles that leads one to their destiny or some other greater purpose. True, they are difficult to understand, but one must have the intelligence to even have an audience with them."

"It certainly sounds worth a try. How do I go about meeting with this internal person?" Kual didn't have the face of optimism.

"With much difficulty I'm afraid…To speak with this entity; one must have a firm grasp of the inner workings of the mind. Even the most skilled psionicist has difficulties with opening a line of communication with them. Even myself. The first step is to learn the arts of Telepathy, to perceive all the variances of your mind, to know its functions and construction, right down to the slightest of details. Following this, you apply this same training towards your mind, turning it inwards. Telepathy is usually used to pry into others thoughts, and it is not often that you must probe your own introspection. The goal is for you to locate what is known as you cordillum-tensi. Also called your Divided World. It is in this place that you may meet your inner self."

"Divine World…Sounds mystical. What is it?" The two of them had been outside practicing during the whole conversation, but now seeing as how they were both becoming more and more distracted by this talk, they ceased their activities and began making their way back into the monastery.

Several of the other monks passed them, bowing low. In the few weeks that Magnus had been studying under Master Kual, the monks had gained immense respect for him. For they knew that their master, despite being their wise all-knowing teacher, saw him as an equal or perhaps even greater, meaning that his powers were considerable indeed. They now returned to Kual's room, and continued their discussion.

"To put it simply," Kual went on to say, finally answering the question, "It is a place in your mind, a haven that is crafted and molded by ones own consciousness. A sanctum that is created and exists in every single person, an inner chamber of your own mind, a place of refuge. To reach this place, this hidden sanctuary that is concealed to even you...It also requires great concentration and dedication. Sifting throughout your own mind, searching for where you had buried it, to keep your psyche safe."

"What's in this place? What's its purpose for existing?"

"It acts as a buffer between you and the outside world. A shield against unwanted contact. A psionicist _can_ breach this sanctum, and raid their own inner most thoughts, but it is _exceedingly_ difficult. It is not the same as reading ones mind, or controlling their will with your own. It requires crashing down gates and smashing through walls of mental barriers, to access this place. It is almost a gateway into a realm that goes beyond mortal understanding."

"But you didn't answer my question," Magnus pressed gently, "You haven't said what's _in_ these places."

"That's because I don't know. It is difficult almost beyond describing to reach ones own Divided World…to reach another person's is next to impossible. And the task to remain in your own is demanding and taxing. This place is so deep within your psyche, that to stay mired in it for too long means lapsing into a state of living death, forever asleep but alive. For in order to reach this place, you must enter a state of living death, nearly choking your own life from you in order to see this hidden world. It is a trip and a ritual that most never have the nerve to attempt, for failure, which is very possible, means death. But before this may be attempted, it will require much study and patience on the finer points of Telepathy. As if you are not skilled with the lighter finesse of psionics to an almost perfect degree, it will be impossible for you to tap into this place, and you shall perish in the endeavor. But I needn't go further. I know already that you wish to try…"

"Indeed. You've certainly learned how I think very well over the weeks. I suppose I had best begin training to do this. What's first?" Kual held up a hand.

"Slowly, one element at a time. When you complete the finer aspects of Telepathy, and are able to manipulate anyone's mind, and know the inner workings of your's and anyone else's consciousness, then you must begin to train yourself to see beyond your five senses. So, let us get back to it…"

---

---

_After long training…_

---

---

It was long training, long and painful. Magnus had to reach a state of calm in order to manipulate the minds of others with his thoughts, to probe gently, or to viciously stab. It was not something mastered in a few days. Nor a few weeks for that matter. It took four months of solid practice for him to learn every aspect of Telepathy, and to control it with careful precision. It was grueling, day after day of pushing his psionics gifts to the limits, each session ending with a savage headache. But pain was meaningless to him; he was not one to shy away from a challenge just because it hurt.

In the end however, the rewards were well worth it. He could now contact a whole host of minds, peering inward into their most secret of secrets, hearing all their thoughts as one, in a mingle of blended voices. It became possible for him to bend individuals; both psionics and unpsionic to his will, making them do tasks for him, to idolize him or to see him as terrifying as death itself.

The limits of this power was only confined by the restrictions of his own creative ingenuity. It was now within his ability to seek the greatest fear of someone, then to make that fear a reality within their own mind, nearly driving them mad. Such power over people is great; to hold another man's mind in your very hand is a terrifying thought. There were so many ways that these psionics strengths could be used to bring about malevolent ends.

After all…power corrupts, especially power of this magnitude. But Magnus was a sight to behold. In terms of influence, he trumped nearly all. Yet he did not seek things out for his own end. He could have and take all that a man of the mortal world might desire; status, women, riches, magical items, anything and everything. But he wasn't the least bit interested in such petty things. His only purpose was to be a protector of the elemental balance, meaning he was a guardian of the world itself, inside and out. A rare thing. He had the power, but chose not to abuse it. A great many other men would not be the same.

With telepathy finished, Kual once more explained what the next level of training would entail, the finer points. Without any hesitation, Magnus informed him of his readiness. Thus, Kual brought Magnus to a hidden chamber, deep below the monastery. There was a stone door of considerable size blocking the entrance. Kual paused, turned and bowed low to Magnus.

"You have done well my disciple. Now comes the harder aspects of the training. You have learned to use your mind to influence and probe the minds of others. Now, in order to gain the sight of Clairsentience, and have the troubling questions that haunt you answered, you must turn this newly acquired power on yourself, to deeply probe your own thoughts and your own psyche, in order to discover the truth you seek. That is why we are here…" Using his own powers, Kual moved the giant stone aside, revealing the inside of the room. It looked like a perfectly square cave, with no furnishings of any sort, not even a rug.

"This is a room of my own craft. I hollowed it out over the years, and have infused the walls and this stone with psionic gifts. It acts as a shield. Nothing, not light nor air will enter this room once the stone is replaced. Psionic waves will also not pass through this barrier. You must enter, and be sealed within. To reach your Divided World, you must search within yourself, probe down to the very core of your being, and seek your answers." Magnus stared within the darkened room. After a moment of scrutiny, he started forward.

"I will warn you now;" Kual said as he past, "That there is great risk to your mental health should you pursue this avenue. It is very deep within your subconscious, and if you are too forceful in trying to contact it, you will merely damage your own mind, which might result in disastrous afflictions. Not to mention the more important physical threats…if you do not succeed, then you will not leave the chamber alive. Heed my words carefully…"

"And if I do succeed?" Magnus inquired, almost disregarding the possible danger to his life, "What then?"

"You will discover the whereabouts of your Divided World, and will be able to access it. If you _are_ able, it is there that you will speak to the inner person, if they feel they need to speak. And in so doing, you will quite possibly gain an understanding of Clairsentience and how it works…"

"Very well." Magnus entered, and sat in the middle of the room, resting comfortably. Kual stared in. Though he hadn't said anything and wouldn't say anything more, he was still apprehensive. He had lost several apprentices in that room, claimed by their desire to enlighten themselves. Magnus was stronger than any other he had met, but strength meant very little in that room. Kual himself had gone close to madness within. Who's to say what it might do to someone else? Without a word, he sealed the room shut, and left.


	9. Conversation of Destiny

**Chapter 9:** Conversation of Destiny

The cave smelled bad. Being shut up inside of it wasn't very pleasant to the nose. A musty aged smell that intruded upon the nostrils, creating a ticking feeling deep inside ones skull; an itch that couldn't be scratched. Maddening…

But Magnus wasn't one to bother with madness. He didn't have the time. His job was to fall into a near-death trance and force his mind open with his own psionics powers, to lay bare the way into his Divided World. Simple as custard cake.

He didn't waste time, and began to breathe deeply, calmly, already turning his mind inward, scanning every separate ripple of his thoughts, examining them carefully, oh so carefully, seeking any shift or alteration, no matter how slight. It may very well be nothing, but it might be the inner door that he is searching for.

Time passed slowly, each moment dragging on, clinging to the last before slipping away. The silence was long, growing heavy, as air began to dwindle. Magnus's mind, despite being so disciplined, strayed slightly from his consequential task. He began to think of his three companions, their quest…It seemed so long ago. And what interesting paths it had led him to. He was quite sure the others were going through the same things in their own way. _I'll bet anything;_ he contemplated to himself with a slight smile, _that Vinir is positively fuming at being separated from Teriwyn. _

Despite having been a solitary man for most of his life, Magnus had indeed enjoyed the company of the three elves, being the first real contact he had ever had. The prospect of not seeing them again was saddening somewhat. But then again…

_If I truly grow as powerful as Zigar suggests, he said that traveling about to see them would be easily allowed, so long as I do not neglect my duties here. Then perhaps our paths may cross once again. That is if I survive this…_He shut those thoughts out, and went back to his task at hand, driving more psionic force towards himself.

It did not take much longer for things to become grueling; the temperature was stifling, being a dry concentrated heat, yet with shivers and chills running across the icy stone walls. And still nothing, not even a tickle at his consciousness, nothing being even remotely close to what he sought. He knew that it would take time, but even with his iron patience, it was frustrating nonetheless, to sit, remain focus, and yet get no results.

And as the air supply began to diminish further, making the task of in-taking air painful, with still no abnormalities of his brain activity, he could feel the grip of death start closing in. He did not quite understand; he was doing as Kual had instructed, and even as he could feel himself growing numb, he felt no changes. Why? After a little more analysis on the matter, he suddenly got the suspicion…

_No_, he said aloud in his mind, coming to a conclusion of his own, _this is_ _wrong._ _Any psionicist can do what I'm doing, to search ones own mind. And yet they failed. That means…this isn't how to go about this. There must be something else to it…_

His head began to hurt; the overly intense concentration was causing great pressure on his head, feeling the burning coursing down his spine and into his limbs.

_Wait a minute…I'm trying too hard. I can't relax with this pain. I can't enter a state of enlightenment if I'm so tense it hurts…The discomfort is distracting me. Calm…Calm down…Stay loose…Kual said that if I try too hard, I'll only hurt myself. I must not tense. Don't loose sight of my objective here. To find the answers to those damn questions…_

Despite all the air having been used up, he still breathed, exhaling slowly and breathed in nothing, his whole body releasing the tension. He pulled his fierce unwavering focus back, to no more than a light touch, gently keeping a psionic field around his head, keeping a watch with only minimal attention. In the meanwhile, he let his mind wander again, asking his own questions.

_Kual also said that I have unconsciously hidden this place in a section of my mind that only I would think to look. Where would only I look? Memories? No, that's the first place any psionicist would check…? My physical self? No, that's too easy…_

His head began to feel heavy, and a hazy comforting twilight was slowly swallowing his consciousness. Behind his eyes, in the depths of the infinite darkness, the fog was starting to gather.

_Current thought…No…Where would I put it…Where no one would look? My psionic structure? No…_

The clouds rolled in, beginning to crest and swell like waves from an ocean, a tide of darkness was flowing into his body and awareness. Desperation was slowly creeping in…

_My logic…my goals…_my_ emotions? No…No…No!_

Light was almost gone, only tiny speckles remained of life, fading away into complete obscurity…

_My creativity…My imagination…The center of my innovative dreams…No devoted psionicist would bother routing through that…they'd be far too focused on manipulating my body and my memories…That's it…It must be…_

The mist descended…

---

---

_Deep somewhere…_

---

---

Magnus just knew…he needed to open his eyes. And as he did, he saw mist. A lot of it, wispy gray tendrils circling about his body. The ground was lost beneath it, his feet hidden under the swirling nothingness. Looking up overhead, he was intrigued to see that there was no sky. Naught but solid white in every direction, an endless stretch of nonexistence. But an infinite void did not concern him, nor did it frighten him as it would many. He didn't have time to be afraid, as directly in front of him was a figure, fading in and out of sight. Though he couldn't be sure, he believed it raised a hand, gesturing him closer.

Magnus advanced, breath still held, straining his eyes to try and clearly make out this being. He noticed a face, with features of a human; eyes, a mouth, a nose, but having no expression or other distinguishing features. Its body was human; save being comprised of nothing more than smoke and haze. Despite the fact that he got close, easily fifteen spans, he still could not see it clearly. Perhaps he wasn't meant to.

They stared at one another, this strange form bowing low before him.

_"You have arrived I see…Sooner than I had expected. And even stronger than I imagined. You are full of surprises, aren't you?"_ Its voice was an echoing whisper, though he heard it in his head rather than out loud, rippling across the emptiness around them.

Magnus glanced past this shadowy form, at the place he stood. It looked to be a grove of sort; trees, a small pond, and tall grass was around him. Except it was strange, only half of this place was wooded. The other half was cobblestone and granite, like a city. And all of it was pale, having only slight coloration; an environment from a dream.

"My thanks," said he turning to this form, "I try and be unexpected. But before you continue with your flattery, I have a question. This place…does this mean I have reached my Divided World?"

_"It does."_

"I see. Well, that's certainly a good sign. A bit longer and I might have gotten worried. And whom would that make you then? My guardian spirit?" The shadow-like entity snickered softly at this, its voice echoing about the misty room.

_"Nothing as fanciful as that I'm afraid. Though interesting nonetheless._ _I am you. And you are me…In more ways that can be readily counted…Does that answer your inquiry?"_

"No…but the fact that you are nearly as cryptic as I am certainly supports the possibility that you are a part of me…So…"

_"So…"_ Both Magnus and the spirit entity stayed quiet, each waiting for the other to speak. The spirit caved in first.

_"I wouldn't waste time if I were you. This visit is short as it is, and your hesitation only makes it shorter."_

"I thought you were going to tell me why I am here."

_"You don't need me to tell you that. You decided to come here on your own volition. And why is that?"_

"To get answers to the questions."

_"And what questions are those?"_ Magnus cocked his head at the spirit, having a slight grin on his mouth.

"Oh, I don't think you need me to tell you that. If you are a part of me, then you already know yourself. Don't you?"

_"Clever aren't we? Very well, I do know your inquiries, what it is you wish to understand. But I also know that the meaning of the answers isn't all you are after."_

"What do you mean?"

_"Oh, I think you comprehend…"_ The figure soundlessly vanished from sight, only to reform across the field they stood in. Then, it disappeared again, reappearing elsewhere, silently shifting about from place to place, its voice still echoing all around.

_"It bothers you doesn't it? All your life, you've been the smart one, knowing the solution to all of life's many questions. Your gifts have laid bare some of the most perplexing of mysteries. And now, you are plagued by thoughts and feelings that seem to impel you, and yet you have no clue as to their meaning…That more than anything irritates you…Not knowing the answer. Am I right?"_

"Yes. But nonetheless, it's raised my curiosity on the matter. I've had feelings before, thoughts and driving compulsions, but never indiscernible to my scrutiny. This however is. I'm wondering why. What makes these visions so important that I myself don't know their significance?"

_"Have you ever thought, in your months of training, as to why you aren't able to see them clearly? Perhaps it is a message; that you are not ready for the responsibility that it will bring…"_

"So it _is_ an important purpose then?" Magnus interrupted. "Something considerable I imagine, if it requires me to be powerful?" The spirit, thought its face could hardly be called a face, still seemed to smile.

_"Yes, clever indeed. But foolish and arrogant. I do not think you are ready for the burden. The weight that these new gifts bear upon you…Your personality and these abilities have yet to become one completely. They are still separate, in a somewhat unstable state of merging. It is dangerous indeed to reveal possibly volatile details in such a precarious condition. Yes, you are not ready yet."_

"I suppose that you are right," Magnus agreed, feeling much truth to the words spoken to him by this mysterious part of himself, "I won't deny that I do have a somewhat contemptuous tendency, not to mention that my attitude towards knowledge is selfish. But I am changing, both as a person and as a protector at a rapid pace. I could right now speak to you of half a dozen traits at least that I no longer posses because of this transformation. I needn't know the fullest of details of what I am to do. Only to know that this _has_ a purpose, what I am doing _has_ meaning. And perhaps a clue as to what my next goal should be?"

The entity nodded its head, as if contemplating his words. As it started to speak, it started to fade.

_"I see. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you. Or rather, I can only give you the smallest of hints, point you in the correct direction. Think of this as another test, whether or not you have the enlightenment necessary to find the truths to yourself. Listen closely…"_

The voice now too was beginning to wane, what was already a whisper was now only a withering puff of air on his ears.

"_The limits of your protection are newborn only, on a scale beyond what most can see. Seek the horns of fire, and you shall cross paths with a blazing silver star. From there, you will find your course, and rise in name and number."_

With these cryptic echoing words, the world around began to crumble, scattering into glittering dust…

---

---

_Back in the waking world…_

---

---

Magnus felt his eyes, feeling rather heavy and weighted, and it took tremendous effort to force them open. The moment he did, he wanted to shut them again, letting in light made him aware, feeling the murderous headache that was relentlessly pounding at his skull. It felt as though he was being stabbed again and again from a hundred different directions. He was vaguely aware of some voices hovering overhead.

"You are alive I see…" Magnus could hardly roll his eyes, and though his vision was a blurry tunnel, he could hear and coherently recognize the voice of Kual. He managed to expel some air from his lungs, making a gagging grunt.

"It has been three days now, when we pulled you from the cave. I had thought you had died, but just this morning, you seemed to come back to the world of the living. I am pleased, and relieved." Regardless of the pain, Magnus forced his eyes open a bit more, until he could make out a beige blob that was probably Kual's head. He managed to blink and expel another snort. He felt warm air of someone's breath right on his head. He heard Kual's voice, a faint whisper.

"I know I should wait, but I _must_ know…Did you reach your goal?" Magnus had to struggle more than he ever had in his life to force his head up, and back down again in a sickly nod. "And did you get the definite answers you sought?" This time, he pivoted his whole head around, to stare Kual right in the eyes. At least, he hoped he was.

"No…" he gasped, but managed a faint grin, and before he lost consciousness again, he breathed out, "But I'll figure it out…"


	10. Fight Club

**Chapter 10:** Fight Club

The journey to the hidden world had certainly taken a toll on Magnus's body and mind. For nearly a week, even with his excellent physical and mental condition, he could barely move, barely form a centered thought in his head, and was bedridden for the first time in his life. Kual and his students were taking care of anything he might require, knowing that he was certainly lucky to be alive.

Of course, Magnus concentrated all of his willpower to heal faster, as the damage had hardly been physical but mental, and repairing psychic damage was something he was quite adept at. Regardless, he spent more hours resting in bed than he would have liked. And the voices were certainly not aiding his recovery any.

_"I must say,"_ came a voice from nowhere, _"You certainly are interesting to watch."_ Magnus didn't bother lifting his head to glance around the room. He knew there was no one there; the voice that was sounding was in his own mind. A familiar higher force from another plane was speaking to him.

"Glad…" he coughed, "I'm amusing you."

_"Now now, no need to be upset. As if anyone should be upset here, it would be me. I suppose I don't need to tell you how close you came to death in your mad quest for answers? Need I remind you again, that you are far too valuable to be throwing your now immortal life around for fanciful purposes as you have? If you had perished in that foolish pursuit, it would have been a blow to this world, and could have spelled the doom of all things. I don't think you truly understand the magnitude of your importance…"_

"You're being a bit dramatic," Magnus told the god with wry amusement, "Besides, I would hardly call it fanciful. It _needed_ to be done."

_"Oh," _the unseen god pressed, his booming voice sounding almost teasing and intrigued, _"And why is that? Why could you simply not continue your training without the unnecessary risk?"_

Magnus pulled and strained, lifting himself to a sitting position. "Had I done nothing, my position as your demi-god would have been compromised, and your efforts would have been short-lived and wasted anyway." There was no response, the voice waiting for him to obviously explain himself. "Had I been plagued by those questions, with no chance or thought of an answer, it would have driven me mad eventually. And madness is not a trait one wants in their demi-god protector, I'm sure."

_"Indeed? I presume not. Which would mean I suppose you are fortunate to have come out of that life-threatening situation with a bit more peace of mind. And hopefully, a bit more sense as well. Do try and be careful, hmm? With any luck, your next leg of training will be less hazardous to life and limb. But I'll let you decide that I suppose and put a small measure of trust in you irrational and dare I say absurd way of thinking."_ And just like that, the presence was gone. Magnus laid back down, redoubling efforts to heal himself.

"I've got to get out of this bed."

--

--

--

"Are you certain you're well enough for this?" Kual asked, his expression not betraying the fact that he was both impressed by Magnus's resilience and amused by his lack of patience, "You _did_ have a near death experience and that is something not to be taken lightly, god-power or no." Magnus readjusted his sword belt and donned his black coat.

"I am in no danger of dying," he answered, "And I have the strength to continue my quest. It's not as though I have the time to lie idle. There are still many things about myself that I must discover; these riddles and enigmas only serve to further raise my curiosity."

"I assume you are speaking about you inner self's words?" Magnus checked the remainder of his gear, thinking back to the words spoken to him. When he had recovered his voice, he had told Kual of what he had witnessed. Even the telepathic master was bemused at its meaning, stating the only Magnus could find the answers.

"Yes. Its directions towards my future were enigmatic at best. But I do believe I made part of it out, something that I had intended to, once I was strong enough. Now I am eager to become strong enough, so that I may see if I am right. However, in order to do this, I am in need of strengthening myself further, and for that, I must go and seek another teacher." Kual nodded, and walked with Magnus out to the front of the monastery, the two striding side by side in silence.

"Already leaving us?" Kual noted as the walked, "Learning from a master only to move on to the next? Your appetite for knowledge seems insatiable."

"You make it sound like I'm some sort of parasite," Magnus pointed out with a thin smile, "It is true yes, yet I am leaving here with more than what you have educated me in. I leave with a friendship and kinship between us. And that is more than I would have asked for."

"That pleases me to hear, as in your time here, you have become much like a brother to me, and all of my students. But where shall you travel from here?" Magnus hadn't thought of that, but the answer nonetheless came quickly.

"I've decided to explore other avenues of strength rather than the mind. And I've learned that a skill with the sword, though more violent than psionic combat is nevertheless a useful skill to be schooled in."

"Ah, an interesting choice. Well, I merely hope you can apply you teachings here in that field to better yourself elsewhere. A pity, that as you progress with this destiny of yours, I will be merely content to watch from afar. You have my envy in this."

"I will not forget your teachings and put everything I have learned to good use," Magnus assured the master, "And make no mistake, when I understand the meaning of what it is I am to do, I shall be sure to tell you. After all, we now can communicate anytime we wish."

"Travel well then," Kual told him with a bow, "Go with peace of mind and our friendship. May your answers reveal themselves on your journey." Magnus nodded, took a few steps back, and in another moment, with the flash of brilliance, he was gone.

--

--

--

The great city of Port Ghuran on the southeastern coast of the land of Xon. One of the largest port cities in the known world, it was naturally a haven for all manner of thieves, criminals, smugglers, pirates, and supposedly one very talented sword-master.

Though he had brushed it off, Magnus, in his last psionic endeavor, had gotten closer to death than he was truly comfortable with and had decided to pursue other names on the list that Zigar had given him. The less psionic ones. In truth, his psionic powers had been pushed quite hard in recent months in unlocking the mysteries of telepathy, more than he had ever done in his life, and his head had an aching that was only slowly subsiding.

He would return to those disciplines after his powers calmed themselves from the state of agitation. So he chose to put that on hold and seek out study in another form. And though he was a warrior of the mind, he was nonetheless fascinated by warrior skills of the physical. Swords and armor, sword play and martial arts.

And with a quick teleport from the Hills of Black Lightning, Magnus arrived in the port, searching for Dalan Noh, a man said to be the greatest swordsman of the world. Magnus wouldn't have been surprised if this was an exaggeration, but until he saw for himself, he wasn't going to jump to conclusions. Utilizing his new found abilities of Telepathy, it was a simple matter to track the warrior. He merely had to shift through the thoughts he felt, finding the one he wanted, a calm calculating mind of agility. After that, it was a simple task of following it until he met his target.

Like a magical homing spell, it led him to warehouse down on the docks, where numerous gorilla-like thugs guarded the doors. They bulged with muscle, tattoos and scars across their arms, and their scowls were more than slightly unpleasant. And they only grew worse as he strode up to them, prompting them to move and block the door.

"This ain't no place for some scrawny little cobble-toes. Beat it!" Magnus paused, glancing between the unsightly faces, before listening. He could hear muffled cheering inside, among indiscernible yells, and a sound of clashing steel.

"Fighting going on inside," he pointed out casually. One brute shrugged his shoulders.

"What's it to ya?"

"Isn't it obvious? I too am here to fight."

"Har har," grunted another, "Now why be it that I don'ts really seem ta believe that?"

"Your reasons of doubt are your own, but it's the truth nonetheless. So please, stand aside and let me in." His casual demand must have struck a nerve, as one of the larger goons stepped right in front of him, glowering down, his beefy arms crossed.

"We ain't doin' that, pip-squeak."

"You didn't give that much thought did you?"

"Let's just say I'm feelin' generous. A squawky bony-givelworm like ya wouldn't last one round against them fighters. They're bleedin' animals, they'd rip ya apart. So ya can thank me by leavin'." Magnus gave a sunny grin, as sunny as he possibly could anyways, and dipped his head.

"I'll take my chances, but your warning is much appreciated. Now, if you'll simply move aside…"

"Ain't happenin' runt, not that I wouldn't mind seein' ya torn ta pieces, but we's under orders not to open them doors to fools on the street. So take a walk, else we'll give ya all the fight ya could want."

"I'd rather not waste my efforts fighting against petty thugs," Magnus told them matter-of-factly, "But you're giving me little choice. Here are the two options. Either you can let me in, and continue your fine efforts of guarding this door, or else I can defeat you all, and go in myself. Whichever is fine by me."

The head hoodlum gurgled some bubbly laughter at that, and the remaining doorguards advanced cracking their knuckles, forming a circle around Magnus, who wasn't looking particularly worried.

"Alright, smart-mouth. Now we's gonna show ya some manners and then throw ya to the dogs!"

--

--

--

A few minutes later Magnus was standing amongst the crowd of babbling spectators, hovering slightly off the ground to get a better view of the happenings. Underground fighting was illegal in most cities and in most countries, but as with most illegal activity, it continues to exist anyway; all one has to do is to know where to look, and they'll find it. And this place seemed to be a large operation, with high betting and loads of entertainment.

Two men, two regular looking bandit types were busy fighting in a dirt ring, with wooden boards comprising of the walls. As a sort of gladiator touch, there were numerous iron spikes, and long strands of sharpened wire adorning the walls of the pit, and dozens of weapons lining them. When one man was disarmed, he would duck away from his opponent, dash towards the wall and grab the closest weapon from the racks before resuming combat.

The men in the crowds looked to be mainly comprised of lowly commoners, just looking for some violent entertainment, as well as a chance to make some quick coin with their already pitiful wages of work. However, there was a large section across the pit that was full of a different sort of crowd. Washed men, wearing expensive clothes and having a dignified air about them.

They watched the carnage below with slight smiles on their faces, giving the most tentative of claps when a combatant was gouged with a spear or his head was cleaved. These were the nobles of the city, undoubtedly the power behind the pits themselves, having the funding to keep them open, and the ones who did the majority of the betting, turning the greater portion of the profits.

Magnus eased past the rowdy crowd of commoners, pushing towards the front railing closest to the ring. The two men were still battling it out, both scruffy and almost barbaric, trading blows and howling like beasts. Magnus was fairly certain that neither of them was Dalan Noh, as their thoughts were too narrow and filled with bloodlust. He scanned the occupants of the arena, trying to match a face with the thoughts flowing through his mind.

A scream broke his concentration, as one of the fighters had been stabbed through the abdomen, and he now crumpled to the dirt. The other, grinning and gloating from his assured victory, raised his arms to the crowd, hollering at them and growling. The throng responded with yelling of their own. Then, with a single swipe, he took his opponent's head and bathed in his blood. Bestial indeed.

Magnus had no interest in pit fighting, too barbaric and the opponents were hardly worth his time. Even back when he was mere mortal. As he was still scanning the faces, one nobleman from the private booths stood, his being a bit more adorned and elaborate, clapping and then raising his hands for silence, all eyes turning his way.

"Congratulations Figus, you have succeeded in trouncing yet another newcomer to my ring! And to you, the loyal spectators, I have a welcoming surprise in the evening's lineup! Some of my guards have just informed me that an intruder has broken into this warehouse, and even now slips amongst us, like a thief!" There were murmurs of unease, as the anxious crowd was hoping not to be caught by the local law in this place.

"That's right, even now his presence threatens to expose our charming little sport here to the proper authorities, and deny us simple entertainment! I ask you, loyal spectators, do you think he should be allowed to do so?"

**"NO!"** came a chorus of irate voice. This had drawn Magnus's attention, finding the reactions to his encroachment to be humorous. For the simple reason that he knew what was going to happen. He undoubtedly would be threatened into the pit momentarily, and forced to fight the "champions of the ring" for his survival. The funny part was…these people had no idea who they were messing with.

"Well then," the smug nobleman went on, "Then how about we ask our mysterious trespasser to step in to my ring, and participate? Would that not make for an exciting show?" Again, more cheering and shouting. Magnus knew from the start that there were several people behind him, having snuck up from the shadows and tracking his movements, and only now did they reveal themselves.

"Mr. Lucius would like to see you," one of the assassins whispered into Magnus's ear. "Now." Magnus didn't turn, but couldn't hold a slight grin back.

"Would he? And if I refuse?"

"You can die now, or in the pit. Your choice."

"I see. Well, I suppose then I'll choose the pit. Lead on."

--

--

--

And that is how Magnus ended up standing with his black boots in the dust-filled ring, surrounded by near hysterical masses, throwing curses and screaming obscenities at him. He was the enemy, after all, and he was a threat. He _had_ to die. Magnus however, wasn't quite ready to leave the world just yet.

"Ye ready to die maggot?" the man in armor grinned a mouth of brown teeth, "I can slice ya to shreds fast, or should I make things more interestin' by lettin' ye bleed slow." Magnus wasn't about to acknowledge this dreg with a response, instead, he removed his sword belt, and set it against the wall, and faced the brute, arms out and hands raised.

This action startled Figus, but only for a moment, before yucking it up with more foul laughter.

"So ya don't need a weapon aye? Fine by me, makes it easier to gut ya!" And in a blustering bellow he charged, drawing both the battle-ax and long sword clenched in his meaty hands back, ready to cleave and slice. Magnus had to remind himself not to use his psionic powers here. Yes, he could read his enemy's mind now, knowing where their attacks were going to go before they had even swung, but he was here to test the limits of his sword prowess, not to further exercise his psionic talents.

Not that he needed to read this man's mind to see his next move. Magnus had been trained well with the sword, and he had gained a combat sense that helped face enemies. Though again, he didn't even need that here. His reaction to the ignorant clumsy attack was to simply wait, and as Figus came close, Magnus merely stepped out of the way and stuck out his foot.

The fool's momentum carried him right into it, as he stumbled forward, rolling across the sandy floor, bouncing into several of the iron spikes and barbed wire on the walls. He let out a squall of pain, his left leg having been impaled deeply. He fell, dropping both weapons and clutched his wounded leg, howling as blood mixed with the dust. As he was a threat no more, Magnus turned his dark eyes towards the nobleman from before, the organizer no doubt, as if to say, "Next."


	11. Battle Royale

**Chapter 11:** Battle Royale

The nobleman organizer, Mr Lucius, was rubbing his chin thoughtfully as Figus hobbled out of the ring, and he gazed down at Magnus, who was staring right back at him. He had no idea as to who this strange man was, only that he had soundly thrashed all the thugs who had been assigned to guard the entrance, and had merely hung around.

But then, _who_ he was wasn't what mattered. He was another challenger to increase the betting, and _that_ was all he cared about. He had to have been tough to get through the guards, so Lucius wouldn't be surprised if he took out a champion or three before one of his more skilled warriors dealt with him. Until then, he'd play the part of the ringmaster, and give the dregs what they wanted.

"It seems you have an ally in luck," he addressed Magnus, "But it was no great feat to defeat Figus, a relative newcomer himself. You can hardly call that an achievement. But if you manage to beat this fighter, than you may have some skill. I bring you, good people of the fight pit…Dragus!"

And with a thundering of cheers, out stepped a stooped hulking beast of a man. Actually, this Dragus was a half-orc, with a squat nose, sunken eyes, and uneven teeth. He was a rough ornery warrior, who was only there to feel the thrill of the fight, and revel in his opponent's blood. Dragus was wearing standard leather armor, and was holding a big black spear, with a wicked serrated tip.

With a snort, and whirling his weapon over his head, having no intension of playing to the crowd, Dragus began circling the ring, going around Magnus, who didn't oblige him by circling with him. Magnus stood straight as a rail, staring straight forward, finding this challenger more than slightly beneath him. He was actually expecting this half-orc to wait until he was directly behind him before attacking, bur instead Dragus was right in his line of sight before he charged.

The spear tip was leveled for his chest, driving in, ready to run him through. Magnus waited for a moment, before he glided forward, slithering with chilling agility across the ring, his right forearm getting under the spear, and lifting it upward and to the side. The point went wildly off target, missing Magnus utterly, and leaving Dragus in both a bad position and with a quite comical look of realization on his face.

A moment later, Magnus's balled up left fist rammed right into Dragus's midsection, punching a hole right through the flimsy armor, just at the base of the ribcage. With a wheeze and choke, Dragus fell to his knees, spear dropping, as he clutched his gut, trying to coax his body into breathing.

He was harshly gasping for air, trying to breathe, but with only minor success. Drool oozed out of his mouth, falling to the dust, his watery eyes bulging in pain. Eventually he got his wind back, though slowly, and the moment he could move again, he scrambled back and away from Magnus, his eyes having fear seeded within. He ran back through the door he had come from. The crowd's booing was so thick; one could almost see it hanging in the air. Magnus waited…

Above him, Lucius was surprisingly pleased that the fight was over so fast. That meant using another warrior, and making bets faster. He still wasn't worried.

"I can see now," Lucius noted with wry amusement, calling down once again, "How you were able to get past our obstinate door guards. But you are very much mistaken if you believe that you will be leaving this arena alive, much less intact. You have yet to face the most hardened of fighters who have ever graced this ring, spilling blood much more formidable than yours. Cling to your victories while you have the chance, as very few have every managed to pass your next opponent!"

Then, turning back to the crowd, he lifted his voice to a practiced tone of overzealous announcement, "I now call upon a fighting champion of great prestige to deal with this renegade once and for all. I summon to the ring…Quarrel!"

The door to the fighter-prep room opened once again, and out stepped an almost absurdly dashing and handsome man. Styled blonde hair, arched up in a flowing wave, a glossy scarlet tunic with silver tassels, fine dark slacks and high polished boots of superior quality. Even a dark azure cape was draped over his shoulders, clasped at the throat, fluttering dramatically out behind him.

The man was young, and the way he looked, dressed, and even his actions all but screamed that he was of noble blood. Even his weapon of choice was a favorite among the aristocratic hierarchy, the rapier, the long thin fencing sword. His though, looked more like a decorative ornament rather than an instrument of battle, and his personage was that of a lyricist rather a combatant.

"Greetings to all," he called out flowingly, waving and bowing at the fans, "I'm so pleased that you've come out to see me this evening. It is truly an honor, truly it is!" He bowed again and again, blew some kisses, waved and gave that pretentious charmingly little laugh, before _finally_ acknowledging Magnus's presence.

"Do you dare to face the grace and deadly skill of the charming Quarrel, or shall you surrender now?" Without even waiting for an answer, he turned to the spectators once more. "What say you, adoring crowd? What shall be the fate of this interloper?"

He began to stride about the ring, once again invoking reaction from the crowd, hamming it up, all but ignoring his opponent.

There was a tap on Quarrel's shoulder.

"Hmmm?" And a moment later the devilishly handsome Quarrel was sailing backwards, crashing through the door from which he had come. Magnus had got tired of waiting, walked up behind him, and as Quarrel turned, he got a fist right in the face. He more than likely didn't know what hit him, and probably he never would, as the blow knocked him silly. Next…

The crowd certainly didn't like that, not one bit, seeing one of their favorite fighters defeated so easily, and several looked ready to scramble over the partition and fight Magnus themselves. The only thing the kept them at bay however, Magnus noticed, was they were too apprehensive and afraid to fight him. He had defeated three champions without even a weapon, so he was obviously tough. But _how_ tough?

"Interesting…And surprising," Lucius offered, finally beginning to wonder at how much farther this mystery man could go, "But that victory was nothing more than taking advantage of his lack of attention, not a true test of skill. You will not get away with that with this great master. Bring in, the deadly Vargo the Great!"

And stepping over the ruins of the door and the unconscious Quarrel was a mountain of a man, a towering behemoth. He wore iron wrought armor, covered from head to toe in thick plates, only his head was exposed, which was so covered with tattoos and scars, one could hardly tell where his head began and where it ended.

His armor was silver with black mess beneath it, adorned with golden trim, making it fearsome and modish both. Gripped in his heavy iron hands was a large wooden stick, a uprooted tree trunk, with a massive bolder lashed to one end, making a crude yet sizable maul; it looking heavy enough to shatter a normal man with one blow. Vargo advanced, lifting his arms, roaring like an animal, but keeping his eyes trained on his target. He approached, grinning down at Magnus, who did not return his smile.

"Now you face Vargo the Great! I'm going to smash this puny simpering runt into mush!" He lifted the great maul over his head, intending to crush Magnus beneath it. Magnus did not oblige him by standing still; quite literally walking out from under the attack, and delivering a stiff but simple kick to the back of Vargo's right knee, causing the brute to fall backwards, crashing to the ground with a boom, flat on his back. And due to his armor, he could not rise again. He could only grunt and squirm, twisting and pushing, growling and cursing as he fruitlessly tried to right himself.

As the prone colossus struggled to regain his feet, Magnus strolled over to one of his thrashing legs, took hold, and began to spin the surprised titan around and around, releasing him up towards the mortified crowd. People went scurrying for cover with terrified yells, the falling giant acting as a human catapult stone. Whatever he struck upon landing must have been reduced to rubble. He did not rise again from the wreckage in the stands.

Everyone, Lucius included was stunned with open mouths. There was dead silence.

"This is ridiculous," Magnus called up to Lucius, his voice powerful and commanding breaking into the quiet, his patience for this idiocy wearing thin, "I didn't come into this ring to face off against your side-show freaks. I am here to face a warrior worth his sword, and instead you throw these bar-hopping rejects at me, passing them off as _fighters_. Don't tell me that these are the best that this meager barnacle shack has to offer. What a joke."

"Be careful what you ask for," Lucius answered back, feeling a twinge of temper rising at the comment, "You haven't faced the best of my men. Rest assured your life still hangs by a thread. It merely hasn't been snapped yet."

"You said you were going to have me killed," Magnus reminded him, "I'd prefer you just send out someone who was capable of doing the job instead of these morons. Quit embarrassing yourself, you pompous jackass." Magnus actually wasn't upset, a bit annoyed, but he wasn't one to stoop to name-calling. He was merely trying to goad the manager into getting serious. It seemed to have worked.

"Fine," Lucius was now getting quite riled up, "You want to die? Very well, then try this." He then yelled out, not even bothering with addressing the crowd any longer, "Sola! Rava! Get out here, the both of you and teach this fool what it means to enter _my_ ring!"

From out of the opening to the fighter staging area, now lacking a door courtesy of Quarrel, out stepped two women of striking features. The first was the taller, dangling blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail, wearing low cut leather armor, and sparse leggings, leather boots coming up to mid-calf, and holding two short swords of fine quality. Her air was playful interest towards Magnus; a tentative cocky smile was looking him over with pale jade eyes, as she strode out.

The other was much fiercer in both appearance and expression. She had fiery orange hair, far shorter and messier than the first, wearing dark studded armor, still showing a fair amount of bronze skin, and she had a wicked smile, her violet eyes burning as bright as fire. She had a bastard sword clenched in one hand, and a scimitar in the other.

Magnus watched these voluptuous warriors enter the ring, and gave them a charming smile and courteous bow. Self-discipline and his goal of fighting Dalan Noh aside, this was more to his liking. Even if they knew next to nothing about battle, at least they were both easy on the eyes.

"Oh my," the blonde, Rava breathed, "You're a handsome one…And you beat the others? Powerful then too. It takes a lot to rile Lucius up enough to call us out. You must have been _very_ naughty."

"He looks weak to me," the redhead, Sola commented with scrutiny, "Kinda scrawny…Maybe it was just a fluke…"

"Maybe. What do you think? _Are_ you tough?" Magnus shrugged, lifting his hands out.

"As tough as I need to be. But if you'd like, you can test me yourself."

"That's why we're here, darling. I hope you're ready, this might…sting a little…" And with a nod to Sola, both women came in simultaneously, drawing back their weapons and lunging in for the kill.

Magnus watched their far more fluid motions carefully, and managed to lean out of range of their singing steel, but had to retreat a few steps to escape their follow up attacks. After striking, they didn't rush, keeping their guard up, waiting for a possible counterattack. These two _did_ know how to fight, much more than the buffoons earlier. And without using his powers, Magnus didn't think he'd be able to take them with naught but his bare hands. They began chasing him all over the ring, he falling back from their twin assault, coming very close to losing some loose hairs.

He spun and ducked at the same time, passing precariously close to the wall spines, but managed to snag a morning star on his first rotation, and a battle-axe on his second, recovering and bringing both weapons to bear the moment before his head was cleaved and his torso gutted. With a simple push, his newfound strength coming into play, both women were tossed back across the ring, but not enough to cause them to loose their balance, their boots kept to the ground, digging ruts in the sand to slow their skidding.

Magus twirled both his weapons, and waited. They exchanged glances before coming in again. They picked up the pace, and their fighting was polished. Rava was more elegant, twirling her short swords in delicate arcs, her role was to press Magnus hard, and force him back, where Sola, the fiercer attacker would take advantage of his lapse in concentration. But Magnus kept both of them at equal length apart, before taking an offensive push. He ducked under Sola's scimitar, before wheeling around to drag his foot across the dirt, she being unprepared for a sweep, and went tumbling down.

She was down for only a second, and in that moment Magnus turned his full attention to Rava, and attacked with both weapons with a strong intensity, more than she was able to handle. She countered a powerful attack, but the shock of the blow made her loose the grip on one of her swords, which went spiraling away.

These two women were able to fight, being very calm and controlled, and had forced Magnus to actually pick up a weapon and fight back. But he wasn't being overwhelmed by their furious and shrewd attacks, and was starting to take control. That couldn't happen.

"Get Elkin," Lucius yelled out, seeing the tides of battle below change, "Get Elkin in there and fight! The three of them should be able to do it!" They _have to_, he thought, panic starting to rise up, _there's no one else…_

As the two women were recovering, out stepped Elkin, a man of imposing presence. He wore a dark fur cloak, his own face hidden by a hood. His clothes were equally shadowy, as he stalked out into the midst of the fighting.

As Elkin removed his cloak, revealing a gaunt but deadly serious face beneath, Magnus threw the battle-axe at Sola and the morning star at Rava, both of them pitching forward to dodge. Quick as can be, Magnus hopped back several paces to the wall, and picked up two nicely crafted scimitars, his weapon of choice. They were slightly off balance in their construction, and they felt somewhat shoddy compared to what he was used to, but they would suffice.

Elkin was a pale man, long black hair, almost dripping with grease from being unwashed, and his face was streaked with dirt and ash. A few tuffs of a beard, short and untrimmed, he looked rather similar to Magnus. He pulled out two long swords, twirled them in an impressive fanfare, before simply starting towards Magnus. No rush, no circling, he just simply started to stride forward. Magnus did the same, and the two met in a clash. This guy was good, very good. He matched Magnus blow for blow, move for move, his face never flinching all the while. After a quick round, each nimbly leapt back, to continue staring at one another.

On the outside, this Elkin made no sign, yet Magnus could feel it; this man was impressed that he was still alive. Magnus made the move this time, twirling in low with one sword, ready to make a counter attack with the other. And it was met, and repelled as he knew it would, and when an attack came to him, he was able to send it away harmlessly. The two danced across the floor, the two women fighters were merely watching. After a moment, they rose, and headed for the exit.

"What are you two stupid slags doing?" Lucius yelled from above, "Get back over there and kill him while he's distracted!" Rava shook her head.

"Sorry honey, but we're not _that_ good. That handsome man was just teasing us; he'd tear us apart if we tried. And you don't pay us near enough to make us risk our lives." They continued out.

"No!" Lucius bellowed, his anger swelling beyond control, "No, you uppity whores, get back in there and _kill him_!"

"What was that?" Sola sharply asked, looking up his way, "Are you looking for us to slice your manhood off, you putrid gutter-trash?" That shut Lucius up in a hurry, and he only continued to glower a smoldering glare at them. Sola tapped her sister. "Come on Rava; let's get out of this dump." And out they went.

Magnus and Elkin ignored this exchange, keeping their eyes and thoughts wholly on their fight. And while it still seemed a stalemate, Magnus was starting to take control. Elkin was fighting hard, but he had not received enhancements to make his body more durable to periods of greater strenuous activities. His precision was still spot on, but the force behind his blows was diminishing.

Plus, Magnus had always prided himself in being a learning animal, and as they raged across the ring, Magnus was studying Elkin's fighting style, analyzing its movements and attack patterns. With little hesitation, Magnus switched his tactics, now fighting with the same sword style as Elkin, throwing him off just enough for Magnus to end the fight with a single thrust of his sword, tearing a long gash across Elkin's left side.

He was only wounded, gripping the bleeding cloth, yet he never made a sound. Not a word, not a whimper, and when he looked at Magnus, he gave a simple nod, a sign of recognition and respect. Magnus returned the nod, and Elkin stood, and with surprisingly little difficultly, though he was trailing blood, walked out of the pit. Once again, dead silence struck the fighting arena; none of the spectators had ever seen such a fight. Even Lucius, still somewhat fearful for his privates, had few words.

"Who are you?" Lucius asked in a daze, his whole lineup had been dealt with in swift fashion, either defeated or scared off; leaving him shocked and stupefied, his air of confidence and superiority having long since faded away. "_What_ are you? Are you even human?" Magnus kicked up some dust with his boots before turning to face him once again.

"Mostly. But I'm not here to answer your inquiries. I'm here to fight. Who's next?" Lucius hated that he was about to say what he was about to say. It was actually the first time he could ever recall saying it. No one had ever passed Elkin. No one.

"No one…There is no one else. You've defeated my pit. Congratulations…" though he didn't sound too happy. _I can't believe he won…It's unfathomable. But I have no one else…no one who could win…_

Magnus saw this, reading Lucius's mind. "What about Dalan Noh?" he asked quietly, "I understood that he was here. He is why I have come in the first place. Bring him out so that I may fight someone of true skill."

"How do you know he was here?" Lucius demanded, his previous fearful demeanor giving way to bewilderment. "He only arrived here two days ago, and no one save myself has seen him. So how is it you know of him?"

"I already told you, I'm not answering that. I'll be asking the questions and I'm asking now, are you or are you not sending him out? If not, then I'll be going in," pointing to the fighter staging area, "and find him myself. Your choice." Lucius stood there, still very much befuddled, before making a swift glance behind. Magnus was watching him, and seeing that glance, he followed his gaze. There, reclined a few seats behind Lucius's lavish chair was a figure hooded in darkness, booted feet resting on a footstool, most likely staring down into the pit.

At once, without even any pondering, he knew he had found him. Dalan Noh wasn't taking part in this debased entertainment, a spectator only, as if he truly was the worlds greatest swordsman, these petty opponents would be nothing but a nuisance for him to fight. An insult to someone of his skill. But seeing as how Magnus had almost effortlessly defeated them, then maybe he would be viewed as a worthy foe, calling down the swordsman with the tantalizing lure of a real challenge.

"Will you come down?" Magnus called up, "And face me? Either here or somewhere else, I leave it to you…" The shrouded figure did not move or respond. Lucius was fearfully glancing between the demi-god and the sword master, wondering what was going to happen, having never speculated of such an outcome the day he had met the famous warrior.

The mysterious figure answered Magnus's call without a word.

He stood with an unhurried push, stepping forward, up and on to the railing, vaulting over the side, landing in the dust of the pit, directly across from Magnus. With a casual toss, the cloak that had wrapped around the figure was discarded, showing a telltale gleam of silver of a concealed weapon.

Magnus turned to face him. From out of the shadows, stepped…his opponent.


	12. The Man with A Thousand Moves

**Chapter 12:** The Man with A Thousand Moves

Magnus was actually rather surprised. Dalan Noh looked completely…unremarkable.

Everyone else Lucius had sent in had some manner of quirk or peculiar feature that made them stand out in some way. Dalan Noh was certainly not lumped into that category.

He had scruffy brunette hair, the outmost reaches falling into his eyes. His complexion was average, not tan nor pale, with a skinny frame, a few traces of sinewy muscle clinging here and there. Eyes were a gray/green, looking inquisitive and sharp, and a matching expression with a curious rueful smile, almost playful, as he came strolling gently forward.

Other than the plain long sword over his shoulder, he was both unarmed and unarmored, with no studded leather or plate mail or anything. Simple clothes, simple boots, and a simple sword. He looked the sort of man who could blend into any crowd and not stand out, a man who looked just like everyone else. An almost flawless camouflage for the ultimate swordsman.

Magnus knew this was him though, there was no doubt. The thoughts matched the face at last, and Magnus was certain this was going to be difficult. The mind he was sensing wasn't just sharp; it was razor. In a constant blur of motion, taking in every conceivable detail about the terrain, his opponent, and any other factors which could alter combat flow. He was as focused on battle as Magnus was focused on psionics.

Which meant Magnus was at a disadvantage here, if it came down to raw skill. Magnus wasn't worried about being killed; he could always use his abilities to quell any resistance against him. But not against Dalan Noh, but rather against any outside interference. Dalan Noh had nothing but high regard for his opponents, and fought honorably. He was, strangely enough, the least threatening of everyone in the whole warehouse.

Dalan stepped out, paying zero attention to the fans above, who were excessively quiet, or to Lucius who was unhealthily pale. He was watching Magnus only with that inquiring smile, his eyes flicking back and forth across him, taking into account his armor, his frame, his weapons, and any other deciding factors. With a twirl, Dalan brought his sword around, and planted it tip down into the dirt at his feet. He then proceeded to stretch, extending his legs, rolling his gaunt shoulders, bending his back, all the while watching Magnus.

"So you're the prowler," he mused in the midst of his loosening up, his smile never faltering, "You've made quite a stir around here. Not many can get this far. Actually, this is the first time I've been called out to fight in a long time. Maybe even ever. Although you aren't quite what I expected…"

"How do you mean?"

"I don't know…I always thought that someone who could get to this point would look…different. Maybe some huge hulking brute with more brains in his feet than his head. Too stubborn to submit to pain or to accept defeat. That's hardly what you look like. You actually look dangerous."

"You don't consider the large barbarian types dangerous?" Dalan shook his head with a grin.

"Hardly. If they've had enough to drink, they might be tough, but otherwise all one needs to do is use their own over-zealous dispositions to their disadvantage. But since you got here, I guess that means you don't make such mistakes. I'm hoping that it wasn't just a fluke on your part to get past everyone else. If not, then maybe I can finally have a decent fight here."

"You do not consider anyone else here a worthy warrior?" Dalan thought on that.

"Not especially, though I gotta say, I certainly like _looking_ as Sola and Rava. They're not half bad in the ring, but their strength doesn't really lie in their blades, if you follow…"

"Elkin was impressive," Magnus recalled, "But since you are the one known as the _world's greatest swordsman_, I assume you are far superior to even he."

"Elkin?" he seemed to consider this, before shrugging. "Not too bad, but yeah, you're right I'm afraid. I'm in a different league them him. I kind of wonder…are you ready to face me?"

"I'm here aren't I?"

"I guess so. Well, let's see what I've got to work with here." After pacing in a tight circle, he retrieved his sword, and started towards his newest foe. Magnus stood poised, ready to react like lightning. And even then, it almost wasn't enough. Dalan closed with a gentle gait, and in a swooping turning arc, he lifted his sword for swift upward slash, Magnus almost not able to parry.

And before he was able to perform a retaliation strike, Dalan's sword went sweeping away, swinging around his body, and with a practiced nimbleness, his weapon changed hands, and it came in again, this time a thrusting downward spin, aiming for the neck. Again, Magnus was almost unable to react against the speed of it.

This swordmaster was really something else. He was perhaps the pinnacle of human dexterity, his movements agile and flawlessly timed; his feet graceful and his assaults fluid. Magnus returned with a counter-offensive of his own, a twin sword rush, crossing them, before making simultaneous rising draw-cuts to split his foe's torso. But nothing struck, Dalan watched with a mischievous grin, making lissome steps out of the way, moving as casually as if he was taking a leisurely stroll, rather than being attacked.

With no hesitation, he came skipping right back in, pressing Magnus hard, both hands on the grip of the long sword, and making numerous flurries like a visible hurricane, slashing high, then low, switching to jab and all the while stepping in to attack, making Magnus give ground.

Dalan Noh wasn't just fast, he was strong. And yet it wasn't just physical strength, but the calculating knowledge of where _exactly_ to strike an opponent's weakest defense, so it felt like an overwhelming power, enough to leave them exposed for a finishing blow. But Magnus even at his weakest was still immeasurably strong, unquestionably stronger than Dalan. He caught on to this maneuver before it came, and for the moment decided to play along. His elbow bent under the blow, bending his arm back as if staggered, leaving a slight gap in his defense. Dalan saw it and took it, pulling his blade back, changed his grip and plunged it in.

Magnus was able to divert this with his second sword, veering the incoming blade off course just enough for him to slip around it. The two leapt apart, staring at each other. After all their bouts, Dalan's face was a bit flushed, and his breathing was heavier, a sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

Magnus was not suffering the same ill-effects of fatigue. He was by no means immune to it, even he would be begin to buckle under the strain of battle after a time, but this low level intensity of action wasn't enough to wear him down. He was busy studying the situation. He found it amazing that one man, with only one sword, one standard unmagical sword, could hold Magnus's two relentless blades off so effortlessly.

Dalan undoubtedly saw that Magnus was unaffected, and it no doubt put him on edge. But he showed no outward signs of it if he did, instead gathering his breath, and came charging in again, sword trailing behind.

Magnus recognized the same maneuver as before, though it was coming from the right side rather than the left. This time, Magnus was going to give the shock. Dalan came in, whirling through the air, his sword coming in with a rising horizontal slash.

For a brief moment, almost indiscernible, Dalan's eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. He preformed the same move, trying to use his position to push back Magnus's arm before taking another attack. This time, Magnus's arm didn't so much as twitch, let alone fold under the pressure. And with a slight twist, Dalan's sword was pushed back, leaving _him_ with the hole in his defense. Magnus took the offensive, his sword lunging in but he did not connect. Dalan was able to use Magnus's counterattack to lean back, just out of range of the chisel point of the sword as it went swishing past. And the second he was clear, his long sword was reversed and came plunging inward.

Magnus twirled out of the way; escaping though the tip caught the flowing folds of Magnus's trench coat, getting caught but didn't manage to pierce it. As he landed, Dalan was watching, his eyebrow raised.

"Magic clothes? I've never seen someone wearing something like that before. But come on, are you really going to fight me with all that? I don't really see you as a guy who is afraid of being hurt. Do you mind taking it off so we're even?"

"Not at all," Magnus answered, already unbuckling the cuffs at his wrists, "I hardly remember that I'm wearing it most of the time. I suppose it's just comfortable." He tossed his black coat to land near where he had placed his sword belt, before retrieving his standard scimitars again.

Dalan gave a salute, and the two closed again. This time, Magnus altered the battle by suddenly shifting his fighting style in mid-swing, altering from a more defensive arching strategy to a forceful stabbing and hacking motion. It wasn't his ultimate goal in trying to win; he was simply interested in watching his opponent's reactions to such drastic changes, as a true warrior is able to predict the tide of battle and flow with changes. And again, the world's greatest swordfighter did not disappoint.

Without even a raised eyebrow, Dalan adjusted his own stance, retaking a grip on his sword, altering his own fighting style to best counter the aggressive attacks.

After a bit, Magnus this time not only switched to an even more elegant yet roundabout vigorous style, he also began to employ his own high dexterity more fully. His footwork became more accurate, his reactions seemed even quicker than before, and his ability to contort his body around the incoming blade of his enemy increased. And once more, Dalan's eyes narrowed at this change, but did not falter, keeping up his own offensive, adjusting himself to counter.

They raged across the pit, cautiously watching the other, making forceful and delicate attacks, testing the others defenses, closing to clash for a few bouts before breaking off. All the while both opponents were vigilantly taking note of the other; of sword styles, stances, and other little quirks each individual fighter possess that could give forewarning to a impending maneuver.

"I gotta say," Dalan now squinting at Magnus carefully, "You're quite the mystery to me. I've been able to read every single fighter I've ever come up against, and analyze their strengths and flaws so I can find the best way to beat them. It's sort of a habit of mine. And I did the same thing to you. You look tough, but not horribly strong, and you didn't really seem to have that dancer flare of deftness about you that keeps you on your toes. But both times you've proved me wrong. You're far stronger than your appearance suggests, and you have high awareness and coordination with your feet. Which makes me wonder…?" He trailed off, scrutinizing Magnus even more than before.

"Wonder what?" Magnus pressed, interesting in hearing his take on the situation, "Please speculate. What is it you are thinking?" Dalan Noh was quiet, but then gave a flashing grin.

"I think _you're_ the one who's toying with _me_…not the other way around."

"I'll admit that there are certain…aspects of my abilities I have not brought to bear. But I have a suspicion that the same can be said for you as well. And I am interested in seeing the full extent of what you're capable of." Dalan scratched his chin, thinking on this.

"Heh, well truth be told, I'd say the same about you. I'd like to know what I'm dealing with. How about we put this fight on hold for a bit, and we go get ourselves a drink?"

"A fine idea," Magnus agreed. He replaced the scimitars where he found them, retrieving his own sword belt and coat, and both demi-god and blademaster walked out of the pit, shoulder to shoulder, leaving behind a bowled over crowd of spectators.


End file.
